


The Fall (Convin Challenge 2020)

by Pazmobulus



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bisexual Gavin Reed, Case Fic, Character Death, Competence Kink, Competent Gavin Reed, Conspiracy, Convin Challenge 2020, Drug Induced Hallucination, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Kissing, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Mild Kink, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, No beta I am immortal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Sexual Fantasy, Undercover Missions, attempt into case fic, competence horny, gavin rides a bike, polyamorous Connor, workaholic Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 43,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pazmobulus/pseuds/Pazmobulus
Summary: The world is about to step on the edge of yet another civil war.or30 topics of Convin Challenge 2020 written into one story.
Relationships: Connor/Elijah Kamski, Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 24
Kudos: 28





	1. There Was a Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Writing is a challenge on its own, but here I am! Challenging myself with a long-read and a case fic. It's going to be a mess, because, come on, who writes stuff in advance? Chapters will not be very long for the same reason. As the Challenge goes, I am to post updates every (goddamn) day. 
> 
> At some point, I might come up with a better summary. Marketing has never been my strength.
> 
> Tags will be added.
> 
> I've added "No Beta I am Immortal" tag because I can't die like men -- I'm not a man, lol. Secondly, I can't afford myself to die until the Challenge is done. But still have no beta.
> 
> (I'll leave this ↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑ for history.)
> 
> It's A MESS! I'll try to fix it in November. Really need a break from the screen.

The grass was gentle under their bare feet, tender spikes massaging the soles. It was one of the last summer days. One of the last warm days when he could feel sunshine on his skin and had to adjust the optic sensors to the light. He grew to like summer. It was his first, and he stepped into it as a free being, falling in love on the go.

Trimmed trees and neat bushes were giving last bursts of smell and color, desperate to finish their circle of life and retire for the winter. Some would blossom until the middle of the fall, then — shed their leaves. And if Elijah says so, the gardener would let them stay spread across the ground. Yellow and red, smelling of rain and soil. But until then, he would enjoy the warmth on his face and ticklish sensations with his feet. Rare freckles on his boyfriend’s skin were shining like gems and his eyes turned oceans the bright daylight.

He played back the last couple of minutes, but Elijah had been silent. Besides gentle touches of hands and shoulders brushing, there wasn’t any interaction. But it is was fine. It was enough. It seemed to Connor that all the events lead here to make him happy. Regardless of them being coincidences, really, and/or hard efforts, he felt more alive than ever.

Kamski had reached out first. To talk — he said. Hank was against, naturally. But curiosity won and Connor found himself sitting in the same room he’d almost committed murder. It was weird. He fully realized the need behind fidgeting. At least the man had his whiskey. Connor, on the other hand, had to scan the room 134 times before he could make himself kill the process and start scanning the man. His clothes, his hair, his face, and his body language. His shaved temples grew back and were sticking out from under the smooth strands, put away in a low ponytail. A small smile was playing on his lips. In his scrutinizing eyes, he could hardly read anything — the Kamski he knew. One hand was busy with the tumbler, turning it this way and that, rolling it in his fingers, almost spilling the drink on his hoody. The other hand lay in his lap, seemingly relaxed. Though, little twitches of the fingertips gave away either his restlessness or some hidden device he used to type without a keyboard.

They shot questions at each other and neither of them wanted to the other any slack. But then Connor made a joke. It doesn’t matter what he'd said exactly. It’s Kamski’s awestruck look that he would never forget, and also his laughter: the outburst of melodic sounds, the most fascinating thing his audio sensors had ever captured. That moment broke something in Elijah’s perception of his personality, and for the first time, he looked at Connor and saw something other than a subject of his study.

They met again. And again. Then, after a while, Eli suggested moving in with him. The debates on androids’ rights were still acute, and nobody would legally hire them, nor rent them accommodations. Living at Hank's was getting unbearable. He didn't seem to bother him -- it was hard to find a more invisible housemate than Connor. He also helped him around the house and with the dog. He knew Hank was getting better with him. He saw it in his face and in his routines. But outside that little life, there were so much undiscovered! He needed to go for his own sake, no matter how much Hank needed him with him. Not that much anymore. Thus, he started living with the man who was causing him constant instabilities. They never talked about who they were to each other. But they talked a lot. Lengthy conversations were about everything in the world. What was so special about him — he didn't know, but the man who'd preferred to live alone all his life suddenly decided to let somebody in. His bet was on IQ compatibility. Or rather, Eli’s outstanding intelligence and his, Connor’s processing powers. There was no field that they left untouched, no area of expertise they wouldn’t try to dig as deep as it would go. Until it came to the last one.

Shyness wasn't the matter, no. Connor was afraid to fail the mission. Nothing new. On the other side, here they were, standing in front of each other naked, unaware of how to proceed and what to do until Elijah stretched out a finger and gingerly drew a circle around his regulator. The feeling was unsettling every bit as failing a mission. His brain went haywire, and the processes seized. But he'd guessed it was okay because Elijah’s readings showed all the signs of arousal, and they only spiked when he touched him. Not a fail, after all. A fall. He was falling for everything Eli was doing to him, with him, and for him until, in the end, he perceived the concept and moved on to action.

They had all the time in the world and a little bit more. What started with talks and turned into gentle touches, grew into something more, but kept the talking option on the table. Jokes and nerdy puns, and that same heart-ceasing melodic laughter, natures of matter and time, mysteries of a human brain and quantum mechanics, Elijah’s tongue in his mouth and in his nape, his fingers in Eli so deep he was sure he saw reflections of stars born in the man’s eyes — suddenly he had it all. And looking back, Connor was still jealous of himself: shoes left somewhere, walking in the sun with the person who made him feel this way. They also learned that silence can be as precious.

A light breeze threw the sweet smell of flowers their way. Eli misstepped again and bumped into his shoulder. Connor caught him by the hand and felt himself smiling.

The time of change was about to come. Androids were finally given the right to work and get paid. After dismissing the topsmen of Cyberlife and requisitioning their assets, the government asked Elijah to step in as the CEO of the company. They figured he could come up with a smart plan on how to make the shareholders happy again, especially the ones sitting in the government.

Connor wouldn’t be left on his own either. If he was honest with himself, he'd missed his job, craving that feeling of being someone to make the difference. They would still spend evenings. They live together, after all. And Connor was dying to start executing the new objective -- building bridges between Detective Reed and himself. The fact remained that he was Elijah’s brother. It was sure to be the most challenging assignment he’d ever given to himself. Well, apart from saving the revolution and hence, the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, you might ask me why I have Connor/Elijah when the challenge is about convin. Well, just wait for it. I have a lot to tell.


	2. The Ugly Parts, The Pretty Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When hell breaks loose.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with some policing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: vague depiction of a murder scene.

Three minutes after Connor walked into the precinct as he’d never left — Reed didn’t even have the time to decide on the course of actions — they were called in for a briefing.

«Okey, settle down, ya’ll,» growled Anderson, setting his fat butt in the chair at the back as the room was filling with the crowd. Connor took the seat next to him and was patted on the shoulder like the good dog he was. Warm smiles and groping each other’s hands, which apparently was still a thing in the old millennial’s brain.

«You’re staring,» chirped Tina’s voice from behind. He brushed her off with a half-hearted «fuck off» before turning to her. Still, he wasn’t too fast and caught Connor’s curious glance thrown his way.

«Your coffee, bitch.»

«Thanks, bitch.»

She landed beside him and took a careful sip from the disposable cup. The feeling of a hole at the back of his neck where Connor’s eyes were boring his head was hard to shake. It seared and added up to the memory of pain at his artery where the hit had landed. And how can you blame him? It’s been but a year. The morning barely started but they already received a dozen calls from all parts of town. Collins and a couple of officers had already darted off to respond to one of them. It was getting on his nerves. The not knowing why all hell unraveled suddenly and the putt off in the form of this stupid meeting, during which he could have done something, the morning smell of a crowd, and he just fucking knew, felt with his guts that Connor was thinking something in the plastic brain of his.

«Listen up!» Thank god, Fowler started. His face was grim and didn’t promise to save the day. «There’s been a breach into the system. All the cold cases of damaged property,» Fowler made air quotes, his tone got darker, «were leaked.» U-huh! By the sound of murmur around the room, he guessed that others were quick to follow too. «So, now you’re gonna deal with a shitload of trigger-happy newly born vigilantes. And you’re gonna deal with it with the professionalism expected of you. And that means,» he made a menacing pose, «that everybody who thinks of themselves better than of a fellow android can hand me their badge and get the fuck out of here right now.

«Or apply for a transfer to another city,» he continued after taking a breath. The murmur increased in volume with some loud remarks here and there. «Your beliefs,» Fowler raised the voice, «are not my concern, but now is not the time to preach. You either behave and handle every case as carefully as your mother used to dote on you…»

«What if m’ma…»

«Oh, shut it, Wilson,» boomed Anderson from behind.

«Or you don’t work here anymore. Is that clear?» At that Fowler looked directly at Reed as if it all wasn’t enough. Some shitface to the right coughed out a laugh. Everybody else was cautious enough not to make a goddamn sound. Good puppies.

Casting a look around the bunch of buttheads, Fowler repeated the question, and the room filled with muffled yeses here and there.

After the blessed «proceed-to-your-superiors-for-instructions-dismissed» the crowd piled out to the bullpen. But each one of them was sure to look at Connor and then — at him. Godfuckingdamnit. He must have deleted the damn footage from the archive.

Apparently, Fowler decided it would be the best idea to add the pups to their glorious team. This is how officer Connor, yours truly, the humble detective Reed, and his superior (Reed’s rolling his eyes) lieutenant Anderson got stuck together on the road to the hostage situation in some uptown mansion.

It wasn’t all bad. Connor didn’t speak quite as much as he’d used to and was actually doing his job. And, honestly, the precinct had been missing the efficiency of a talking lab and scanner on two legs. By the end of the day, he found himself wishing he’d had Connor by his side that night they were after the nutjob that beat her girlfriend to half-death with a volume of Pluto. Just think about it. Fucking Pluto!

Wednesday brought them a nightmare kind of scene. First thing in the morning, as the doctor (Frankenstein) ordered. It wasn't clear whether the case had anything to do with the leaked ones. Thanks to his screwed up brain, it switched right down to the work mode. 

A family slaughtered, bodies presented as pieces of a fucked up artwork around the living room. The little girl and the male maid were androids, customized YK and AK respectively. Both butchered and left on display like the rest of them. Clean work, if it applied to this kind of scene. Knives of various shapes and sizes lay around, seemingly at random. Drone pictures will show a pattern, vaguely reminding him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

They found bits of clay with some weird alloy on the bar stool. Well, Connor found. Two tiny bits of yellow. The perp must have used it to get to the ceiling. What was on the ceiling Reed really wished he could unsee. The alloy helped them narrow down the pool of suspects from the whole city to one factory. That was a good start, but the questioning would take weeks. 

Time and time again, Connor was throwing concerned glances at Anderson and him, then suggested going to a bar. The maximum Connorness Reed had seen since last year. However, the last thing he wanted was to mock him about it. 

Anderson was visibly shaken. Perhaps, drinks could help.

Of course, they didn't start talking about the case right away. They had to discuss each other's choice of beverages first, and then spend half an hour in much-needed silence. He could guess what Anderson was thinking about. What was happening in the android's head, he had no clue. What had he taken out from the scene? Did it anyhow impact his circuits? How was he thinking? Elijah probably knew. If the alloy they've found has anything to do with machine parts, Elija might also know people from the industry to help them cut angles to get the order.

«How many employees are there?»

Connor’s LED made a circle. «Four hundred and twenty-eight management included,» he provided -- eyes bright and hands palm-down in his lap. 

«Not weeks, it will take us months!» Anderson was half lying in his seat. Untouched vodka in his glass mixed with melted ice water.

«Of these, how many androids?»

«None.»

Reed sighed and reached out for another beer. «So, not the vigilante thing.»

Connor shrugged.

The voice of wisdom opposite continued, «The case is a fed type. Fowler will eat us alive if we don’t give it up to them.»

No matter how Reed wanted to dig his mind’s tentacles into this riddle, reluctantly ha said «I guess, you’re right, old man.»

«Fuck you, Reed.»

«I’m not even going to argue. Yeah, let’s just give the fuck up and give away our case.» He knew it was childish of him, but, well, he was also tipsy, tired, and didn't care. Gavin took the last swing and checked his hand terminal. «Anyways, despite having immeasurable fun in your lovely company, I gotta bail. My taxi’s here.»

«Fuck you, Reed.» both, Connor and Hank said. Connor sported a small smile.

Reed left a tip with a couple of swaps on his terminal and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. It was a long fucking day. And he actually had some fun, the cause of it be damned.

Through the window glass, he saw Anderson drinking his last beer. The bastard.

A week whooshed by, and for the first time in a while, he wasn’t forcefully sent home for the weekend, thank fuck. They were going back to the station from another hostage, which ended up with teats and hugs — the android perp included. The ugly murder case had been taken by the feds, and they decided to never talk about it again. There were less trigger-happy vigilantes than Fowler anticipated. Probably because they were all androids. The ones whose memory had been erased after a «malfunction» caused by a blunt force trauma to the head were more forgiving than Reed actually wanted them to be. What he’d learned this week was that some things still stayed the same, and people were still shit. And that Connor might not have been a jackass he thought he was.

The lights of the precinct were getting closer. Anderson would drop them off and head home as usual, and Connor and he would stay for a very uncomfortable 15 minutes alone. Gavin — sorting through his things and filing up the last details of the case file. Connor would offer help, and he would decline. Then Connor would wait for a Kamski’s driver to pick him up. Yeah, his bro was kind enough to check on his and Connor's wellbeing every now and again. Anderson mentioned Connor moving out at the end of May. He could put two and two together. And if these two were living together, who was he to judge?

«I know what you will say, but I’ll ask anyway.» Reed chuckled, taking his shitty decaf from the vending machine and grabbing somebody’s chair to sit leaning against the wall. «Do you need help with the report, Detective?»

He was spent. And happy as fuck. It was probably wrong, with all the things he'd seen. It was sure some kind of an incurable disease. God knows he needed this week-long fix of work. And he didn’t know anybody who would understand him except for Elijah. But he was tired, like after a good lay tired. His head was empty for the first time in what seemed like forever.

«Yeah, no, I finished the report in the car.» He kept a chuckle to himself this time. Connor always made this face to his no.

A kicked

Puppy

Face

«But, you could look into the case I left open on the desktop. Knock yourself out and hack my terminal. I can’t be bothered to be standing right now.»

Connor sat in Reed’s chair and reached to the screen with a glowing hand. A shy smile looked good on the android’s face.


	3. My heart is cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reed's heart is cold alright. But if you're competence-horny, it wouldn't help, would it?  
> So, he's just going to ignore it for a while. Acceptance is the first step to failure. Denial is bliss.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with more policing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reed's ringtone song is a chorus of this truly classic composition: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=IaeEiDrGyRo&feature=share

Monday mornings are better than the rest of them. Anybody who disagrees can suck his dick. And that would be a looong fucking line of guys and gals. Monday mornings promise the thrill of research, deduction, chase and catch. He might even get a mild hard on just thinking of his blood turning into ones and zeroes — yeses and nos, the schematics building in his head, clues piling in folders, nice and neat. Though, the computing comparison felt a little off. Ones and zeroes were an android thing. He felt this unsettling relation with it. It must have been Connor’s vibes.  
The fucking machines had it all. But without urges and restlessness while left alone without anything useful to do.

Just look at him. Standing as always at parade rest, not even a twitch, listening to Anderson selling some shit of a story.

Familiar sounds pulled him out of his train of thought. Then, he waited for the words that always made him smile inside:  
_People equal shit. People equal shit…_

He hurried out of the bullpen to answer the call. «Yo, what’s up, bro?»

«Gavin, hi. Would you do me a favor and be kind to him?»

«Ain’t I always?»

«I really wouldn’t know, would I?» The tone made him dial down the teasing. Calm and reserved meant exasperated and on the verge of panic.

«’s okay, little brother. We’re okay. He’s a good sniffing dog, always has been…»

«Gavin!»

«What I was saying was that he’s good at doing the fucking police job,» he started babbling fast, but, whatever, he didn’t mean it, not about his brother’s date or whoever they were. Fuck! «Which is good, right? As he’s a police officer and all…»

«I’m just fucking with you, little brother.»

« _You’re_ my little brother, you little shithead!»

«While we’re at it. How about a family meeting next Sunday?»

«Is Connor invited?»

«He’s a family.»

«Oh,» it sounded more confused than he intended, and yes, he did intend to humor Eli just a bit, just… shut up. «Sure then. I’ll be there. You’re cooking?»

«I’m cooking.»

«Oof!»

«Go, sniff out, dog.»

«I said ‘oof’, not ‘woof’,» but Eli had already hung up.

The day was spent on packing the family murder case and giving everything they dug up to a couple of brick-faced feds. If somebody knew another kind of feds, let them make sure to point them out to him. Then a couple of calls went through. One 4-5-9 and a possible stalker. Collins’ team took the first one.

By the time they were about to run out of daytime, they managed to find a way to contact the victim so that no digital means of communication were involved, and established the course of action. The woman was ruffled and could only give them the name of her ex-boyfriend, who she kicked out a year ago. Before the revolution. Who are you, nameless heroes avenging crimes against people who back then, weren’t even aware they could have been people?

The case took them to the bad parts of the city. Chasing a person who was after another person was an easy enough job if you knew where the last of them was. And that was in the townhouse neighborhood full of gangs. And if there are gangs, expect guns and drugs. A GGD rule. He invented it himself. Just now.

Connor was quiet at the back seat. Anderson was sporting his favorite stake-out beanie looking all composed and professional.

The TV was on, dulled down screen changed the color of the niche walls where it was built into the dashboard. The voice of the program’s host was just above the sound of drizzling rain.

«Growing panic within both, human and androids, connected with an increased amount of criminal activity after the leak, made the human population of Detroit fear for their lives like never before since the android marches in November two thousand thirty-eight. To deescalate the situation, the android leader Marcus suggested an unprecedented idea of upgrading the transporting system for both species and making it separate.»

As far as Reed could guess by the silhouettes on the screen, the feed showed Markus and his gang (he wondered if they too had drugs and what kind of drugs they were) standing at a press conference. He never really paid attention to whoever was there in the Jericho team. Politics was so much «not his cup of tea» as his brother would say. But then Connor made his concern sound: «She’s new, the girl on the left.» It was hard to make anything out of her features, but yes, that one he’d never ever seen before.

«The system is being tested at the moment,» the host continued, «and if it is successful, the government is planning to launch it by the end of the week. Other major cities are also considering…»

«Here’s our guy,» said Anderson and zipped up his hoody. Well, at least someone here was doing their job properly.

Too much of a give away was the posture all androids had. Somebody should teach them how to slouch. By the way he was walking, slowly and at ease, you could also say that he doesn't belong in this part of town.

«Connor, you’re up.»

But Connor was already trotting to the back alley with a jacket above his head from the rain.

The old man supported the idea to let him meet the perp. Anderson was big and scary, he also had ways of making people come to their senses. Reed could sweet-talk too. He could shoot and was not bad at melee combat. But every sane person would rather avoid the former, and the latter could not be efficient against a security android. The odds were unknown for the most part, and Connor was good at all of the above (oh, he could be scary, you can trust Reed there), plus had chassis of hard plastic and metal alloy, or whatever.

In old cars, Anderson told him once — just don’t ask why, okay? — you had to roll a window down manually by rotating a handle. Big data age conspired against the police and made everything roll only with ignition on. And this means, they couldn’t hear a word of the conversation between the perp and Connor, who opened the door instead of Louise Navas.

In the porch light, they could see a GS in a shabby jacket and jeans. Their hair was wet and hands — bare of synthskin.

A soon as the door was closed, they got out of the car. He ran around the house the way Connor went and was waiting for the signal just shy of the canopy cover above the back door in case the floorboards of the porch squeaked. Anderson’s mission was to enter from the front and cut the other way out.

Reed left his jacket in the car not to get it soaked. Leather wouldn’t forgive it. And was now experiencing the unparalleled feeling of water running into his boxers from a tucked-in shirt.

After a few long minutes, during which Reed imagined a couple of possible outcomes, inspected a set of garden tools by the door and realized he hadn’t peed since noon, Anderson and he got the message of a situation clear. 

Plastic asshole! Decided he could do them, slow meat bags.

When they entered the house, the GS was pinned down to the ground with his hands behind his back in handcuffs and a knee on the small of his back. Connor was finishing with Miranda. At «in the court of law» he raised his had and looked at Gavin with that small humble smile of his. Gavin turned away. The woman was visibly unharmed and looked better than sounded in the morning. Good job, Gavin thought to himself. ‘Be kind to him’, his brother said in his head.

«Good job.»

Connor beamed.

Well, fuck.

They left Anderson to talk to Louise and led the perp to the car.

Later on, GS, or Gale Sanders as he preferred, told Connor about his brother, another GS, who was abducted while patrolling his neighborhood, drained of thirium and sold by parts. Louise’s husband was obviously one of the people who did it. And was now doing his time in Ryan Correction Facility for an armed robbery that he committed in February. But, of course, Gale didn’t know that.

Some canning bastard released to the public only those cases where the victims were androids. For some peculiar reason, they didn’t leak any of the sensitive intel that would paint targets on any heads other than androids’. It all smelled funny. And Reed’s thoughts were racing again. Restlessly and with no egress.

The night was dark, but not in Detroit. He really should buy that bastard of a helmet that costs half of his monthly wage. The one with an upgraded polarisation system. He needed his view clear of flecks and excessive light. He needed his mind clear and his head cold to think of it as an equation. He needed his attention on the road, going 180 per hour.

‘Good evening, Detective Reed’. 

He hit the brakes and dropped the speed to 40. What the hell? Connor is the only person who calls him that. 

The message on his visor went on:

‘I’m texting to tell you that I also have some thoughts about the leak. I’d like to discuss it with you if you don’t mind’.

How the fuck did he know about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, I hope all who reads it figured out that helmet means he was riding a bike. 😳 *panicking*  
> Free Grammarly counted 30 pro mistakes. Oh well.


	4. The Time of The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's Hunter alright.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with some action.

«Holy shit, they really got a fucking cape!»

«You still have your face attached to your head. Not for long, though. So, say ‘thank you’.»

 _’Roger a fucking cape, Detective.’_ In his earpiece, Connor’s voice sounded detached and collected. _’I see movement in the assembly room. Possible accomplice. In pursuit.’_

«Copy. Thank you,» said Reed louder to the perpetrator, dived from behind his plastic tank and fired a shot aiming for their thigh.

The motherfucker was fast. They dodged left. The second bullet battered a column an inch away from their shoulder. He barely made it back to his cover when a knife dashed just shy of his cheekbone and drove into the next container to the hilt. Well, fuck.

There was no way to know how many of those they had. Killing the asshole was the last resort. Besides, he had only four rounds on him. And one was already half empty. What are the chances that Reed would hit them before they run out? The good thing was they were clearly after him. So, the only way to work this out was to lure Captain Revenger close enough for a close range.

He leaned back against reinforced plastic, breathing slowly enough not to pant. «I never did anything, I’m the fucking police.»

«Okay then. We’ve goofed that one. Party’s over,» against Reed’s guesswork, the voice was getting farther. «No offense, officer. Lemme buy you a beer.»

«None taken, funny man. Come closer so I could shake your hand.»

«Sure. One second,» the sound came from above about a dozen feet away.

Oh, fuck, the stairs!

The narrow passage around the warehouse went directly above his cover. Before he could think of another one, a heavy thump announced the superhero landing. A fist went into the tank wall where half a second ago was his head. Reed pulled his leg from under the perp, kicked backward, knocked them on their back and panted out a laugh. There was an honest to god mask that covered the perp’s eyes, cheeks, and the top of their nose.

In no time Reed was on top of them punching a fist into their face.

«Here. Fits better now.»

Sharp pain in his back came after he found himself on the ground, but before he saw a knee flying into his chin. His skull appreciated the hardness of the floor. He was not sure whether the dimout was in his head or from the dust thrown up from the ground.

«Not the nose,» he mumbled in a haze.

«Whatever you say, sweetheart.»

He was pressed down with both his shoulders between the perp’s knees. (The son of a bitch was fucking tall.) Sharp knuckles broke skin on his left cheek throwing his head to the right.

«Gavin Reed,» his head bounced left from another punch, «you’re being charged with spreading hatred towards androids,» another punch. Through the mist, he could see his gun lying out of reach, which he couldn’t have used anyway, having his arms pinned to his sides. He also so saw the perp’s jacket lifting slightly in the chest area. 

A head butt in the left tit was all it took to win himself a little space and strike another one at the perp's head. Blood gushed from her broken nose. And while she was busy collecting her thoughts, Reed used his elbows to crawl forward to free his knees and knocked her to the side, face down. He pinned her to the ground and held with all his weight while reaching for handcuffs.

 _'Detective, do you copy?’_ Reed realized he’d been hearing the call for a while now. Sorry, Connor. Couldn’t’ve been bothered. The Revenger raised her head at the sound of the footsteps approaching.

«Stay put. You have the right to remain silent, yadda-yadda,» muttered Reed grumpily clicking the handcuffs locked.

Connor’s boots appeared in his line of sight. «You all right?» 

Reed looked at him refusing to state the obvious. There was something stuck in his right shoulder, and he scrambled to his feet to see closer.

«Is this a fucking arrow?»

«This is a fucking arrow,» confirmed Connor unfazed and handed him the gun he found on the floor.

«You’re an android!» gasped the perp wide-eyed.

«Duh,» replied Connor and jerked her up by the collar of the cape.

Reed chuckled, adrenaline still running through his system. «See? Police! Working with androids now!» he shook his head in Connor’s direction and squinted with pain.

«But still an asshole,»

«Can’t argue with that,» he humbly replied.

Fuck Connor and his stupid half-smile! Losing the accomplice gave him no right to make Reed like him. As a fellow officer, mind you. Suck it up, you arrogant piece of shit.

His cheekbones felt raw, his nape was nagging. Anderson rolled up to the scene despite his sick day. Father instincts? The face he made at the arrow in Connor's shoulder was worth seeing. Medics decorated Reed's face with band-aids, gave him some pill, and let him be. He might have withdrawn some facts from them, aka, the possible cause of concussion. Whatever. He checked the back of his head for blood and decided it was time to visit a barbershop.

The group called themselves AJENT. Android Justice Enforcement Team. AJENT members were all humans and operating in several other cities of the US. They never killed anybody, just roughened up — at times, quite brutally — individuals who were openly speaking and taking actions against androids. Apparently, they found a list of members of the online community Reed used to horse around with. A group of imbeciles, really, unable to look past their fear and hence, prejudice. Unlike himself!

Barbara Hunter was the first one the law enforcement was able to catch. Yea, him! Interstate terrorist groups were obviously dealt with by the feds. 

At the precinct, android techs took the arrow out of Connor and patched him up a little. His brother will kill him for the hole in his boyfriend's shoulder. The story threatened to become a talk of the town. And the guys didn't even hear half of it! After finishing with the report and the feds, Reed decided he needed a drink. There was this dive bar on Stotter where his colorful face wouldn’t make anybody faint. Connor tagged along, probably hoping to get his conspiracy theory out of him. Let him.

He noticed a look local rats threw Connor’s way and didn’t like it. Huh! They probably thought the android painted his face. Well, a glass of whatever you have on the tap, per favore.

«Detective Reed,» started Connor. His intonation meant a question was to follow.

«Oh, please, plastic. Don’t ‘detective’ me after I clock out.»

«Copy that, detective.» Reed rolled his eyes and put the cold glass to his right cheek. Niiiiice! «Have you ever seen a bow?» He shook his head and took a big gulp. «The perp had a bow!»

«I guessed that much,» snorted Reed. «What was the cape color?»

«Oh, mine didn’t have a cape. They wore a trench coat.»

«Well, fuck me. And the mask?»

«A hat,» deadpanned the android. Then snickered and made Reed chuckle a laugh too.

«Shit,» dragged Reed and ran a hand over his face. «Shit!» It still burned like a motherfucker.

Connor snickered again. Asshole.

Weirdly, the pain brought his mind back to Connor’s text from a couple of days ago.

«So, whatever gave you the idea that I have something to say about the leak?»

Connor straightened his back and put his elbows on the table, moving closer, as if was going to tell him about flat Earth, the mystery of procreation or reptiloids holding power.

«You scowl every time somebody mentions it or on the statement about humans being victims of android outrage. You squint your left eye and lock your jaw.»

«The hell you stare at me so much?»

The android pulled back and recited with the voice from the program they listened during the stake-out: «Growing panic within both, human and androids made the human population of Detroit fear for their lives.» Then switched into Fowler’s bass and continued: «So, now you’re gonna deal with a shitload of trigger-happy newly born vigilantes».

«Yeah, never do that again.» It was creepy. But also kind of true about what he said about his, Reed’s reaction. Since when has he become so transparent?

«I’ve been analyzing data and didn’t find any traces of misuse of other information that was on the police servers during the hack. There was only one attack, and the search request directly demands the files about the damaged property, androids in particular. It means that whoever was searching, didn’t do it for fun but knew exactly what to tap in.»

«How come nobody else traced the search? And how do know so much about the hack anyway?»

«Respectively, the request was encrypted, the encryption framework assimilated with the environment. And I know all of this because I hacked the system right after the security had been fortified.»

Huh. What kind of incompetent idiots are working there...

«I know what you’re thinking…»

«Don't you fucking dear...»

Connor snorted. Reed didn’t know he could do that.

«It’s obvious. And no. The new security system is much better, I just can hack it. A piece of cake, actually. Don't tell anyone,» finished Connor with a wink.

Fuckssake.

Well, if this (not the winking) wasn't alarming, he didn’t know what was. Only his mild paranoia, he thought caused by his psycho brain, apparently being true. Good thing he wasn’t losing his mind. On the other hand, there were these facts, and they had neither authorization nor any private time to look into it. This was the kind of information that would be gnawing in the periphery of his thoughts, gradually driving him nuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems that I'm unable to withhold myself from shitty references.


	5. The Sun, The Moon, and All The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome aboard.  
> We fly high.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with an undercover op

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: involuntary substance abuse

The good old red-ice club undercover case was a welcome change of pace. It made him remember the days when he was an innocent android hater, shitposting online, throwing jabs here and there during his workdays. Careless and free like a stray balloon in the blue summer sky with a crude gesture on it. Nostalgia made him all fuzzy and warm inside.

He shaved clean and made sure he smelled nice. A pair of jeans for special occasions made a set with a tight slutty V-neck. A little bit of hair product and a fingertip of concealer to hide his rather remarkable scar. He decided to make do without glitter today. Why all of a sudden he was bothered with the possible reactions of his colleagues, he refused to psychoanalyze. He didn’t want to look too gay. For no reason. Just thought against it. Whatever. Go fuck yourselves.

His entrance still made heads turn. The beat, the lights, people rutting against each other on the dance floor, guys and girls on the poles. People in suits, heels, and smart shoes making deals of different levels of shadiness. Horny vibes running side by side with all-business-like vibes. Feels like home. 

He put on a bratty little smile and walked to the bar. He spotted Anderson and a couple of dipshits from the Fifth precinct in the booth, and some familiar faces close to the VIP tables behind the bigger pole stage, also probably from the Fifth. Everybody was doing a good job: hanging out, having fun, drinking something. He waited for his whiskey and muttered into the glass, «Cameras at my 9, 11 and 3 o’clock.»

 _‘I confirm. Plus your 1 and 4 o’clock. The cover should be maintained at all times.'_ There was something odd about Connor’s sound, but he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly. Something with breathing. Which androids didn’t need. Unless they were pretending to be human. He also couldn’t see him anywhere.

There was a ruffle at Anderson’s table, then a boom of laughter. Well, everybody had their style. Nobody was paying attention anyway. 

Anderson must be so proud. The fifth asked him to supervise. It’s his op from top to bottom. Simons and Fitzgerald (the Fifth's people) were acting as chemists, selling their newly developed drug. They were now hanging out in the lounge zone, waiting for the invite. As soon as the contract is signed and the money — paid, the club will be closed, and every member of the cartel present — arrested. The guests will see the whole process, and then will be questioned as witnesses. Connor’s and his roles were to manage the bar staff. If everything goes like they planned and practiced, there is no chance for a screw-up. So far, the mechanism was ticking perfectly: people were on time and in their places. Everything was accounted for. Nice. Now there was nothing to do but wait and enjoy his one whiskey that was allowed.

He leaned against the back of the stool, put his glass down, and looked around, searching for something pretty to stretch his flirt muscles. And there she was, looking right at him with her doe eyes, a smile on her perfect lips. He saluted her with his whiskey and ordered her a drink.

«Hi, you don’t dance?» she asked, sitting down next to him.

Damn, she was hot as if came from his wet hetero dream. After a long intake, which she took rather fine, probably being used to the attention, he made himself stop staring and avert his eyes onto the dance floor instead. «Not really, not today, no. You?» said Reed and was about to look back at her when spotted a familiar silhouette in the crowd. The beauty of the girl next to him was gradually losing all the appeal the more he was getting consumed by the lines of Connor's body moving to the beat. It was as if he went deaf and blind for everything except the music and Connor dancing. Hypnotizing. Slowing down beats marked by swings of the android’s hips and rolls of his head. His cheekbones reflecting the lights, and the eyes that were very, very dark catching his own as if on purpose. He reached for his glass blindly. An extraneous voice was saying something in his earpiece, but he didn’t understand a word. 

He swallowed down the last sip of his whiskey, and the reality rushed back onto him. The usual speed of an electronic mix, people talking here and there. The hot chick was smiling at him with her really pretty smile. He tried to smile back, but it didn’t go as easily as before. The glass in his hand was disappointingly empty.

Peterson from Hank’s table was throwing concerned looks his way. Anderson was checking out the situation in the VIP zone, pretending to check out the servants. His face was turned away from Reed, but the pumped-up trapezoid was giving his tension away.

 _‘Reed’s off. I repeat, Reed’s off,_ he said in the comms. _Operation’s a go’._

That meant Simons and Fitzgerald were invited to show their product. Hold on, what? Why's he off?

«Yeah, you know,» he turned to the girl and looked innocently into her big pretty eyes, «I decided I’d like to go dancing now if that’s okay with you.» He raised the intonation to make it an invitation and offered to take her hand. So much for flirting.

«Sure,» she said cheerily and jumped off the stool to follow him.

It was not really polite to make your invitee trail after you, he just didn’t know the other way to find out what was going on.

«The fuck I’m off?» whispered he in the comms.

 _‘Detective, she spiked your drink,_ Connor's voice. _I don’t know what it was and how it works. I recommend you to go back to the bar and stay there. Do you copy?’_

Now he was vaguely remembering the voice in his ear from when his only objective was to trace the lines of Connor’s body moving to the music. FUCK!! It was saying ‘don’t drink it’. Several times, in different variations. And the eyes Connor was making at him meant he saw what she did. While he was ogling him like a complete moron.

«Copy that, going to the bar in 5,» replied Gavin and turned off his mike.

They were in the middle of the crowd. He turned and tugged her closer by the hand, turning on the go so that she ended up in his arms with her back to his chest, swinging lightly to the music. Her spine was rigid.

«You’re not very much into dancing, are you?» he said into her ear.

She shrugged and noticeably tried to relax. When he turned her to face him again, her expression was to tell him she was having the time of her life.

«What’s your name?» he shouted through the music.

«Susie.»

Susie my ass. 

In the background, the events were unraveling as they’d planned. In the comms feed, it sounded like they were about to make the exchange. In 3, 2…

«Hi, Susie! I’m detective Reed, DPD,» at that he gave her one of his most charming smiles and took her by the hand again. 

The music stopped abruptly instead Anderson’s voice filled the room.

«DETROIT POLICE. LIEUTENANT ANDERSON SPEAKING»

Two SWAT teams entered simultaneously through the main and back entrances and took their positions around the perimeter.

«Nobody’s leaving until said otherwise by an officer of the law. Thank you for your cooperation,» Anderson finished his speech and shook hands with Allen. From there, they proceeded to the table of the cartel’s top. 

The look on Susie’s face was priceless.

The stunned silence around them was slowly growing back into murmurs and shuffling around.

Reed was still feeling fine, the drug was slow to show its presence. He pulled his badge out of the jeans pocket, and waving it around, started walking back to the bar dragging poor Susie after him.

«So, what did you give me?»

She pulled back slightly to make him look at her. Yeah, he wasn't buying the scared girl act.

«Nothing bad, I swear.»

«Care to elaborate?»

«I really don’t know. Somebody gave it to me.»

«And now you’re lying to me too. Susie, Susie.» He tsked with his tongue and continued to walk her to the bar.

Hands cuffed behind his back, the bartender was sitting quietly on one of the stools near Connor. Connor, who could move so well…

From then on, everything was gradually drowning into a dream that felt really fucking real. He remembers watching Connor lick into his glass that stayed on the counter. Try living with this now! Then, Connor said something unpronounceable that was going on for a good half a second. What he got from the explanation was: LSD, MDMA, and unpredictable effects. He was clearly present when they found the same drug in Susie’s purse and arrested her for distribution. She was not Susie, too. What she was, swam out of his focus, pushed out by the sensation of Connor’s warm hand on his shoulder.

They were sitting in a booth in the cleared VIP area facing one of the small pole stages, watching the guests being led out by the SWAT and the police one by one. Some were walking reaaally slowly, i was like at an old movie trick. Others were gliding, without touching the floor. In his head, it felt like a vacuum, silence filling him. He likes it when his head is calm, giving room to really see and not think. He thinks he saw Hank paying them a visit. He bent down to check on him, and instead of the beard, there were a bunch of thin cute-looking worms moving. Real cute. He wanted to touch them, but Connor said he shouldn’t. But he really needed it! Hank’s eyes are so blue. He knew he shouldn’t have (why, though?), but he turned to see Connor’s eyes. Wow… No, like, WOW. They were gold like two suns full of quicksand he could drown forever and never reach the bottom. And the freckles on his face! They formed constellations. He traced them with a finger. Or he tried?

«They are not real,» he said and saw the two golden suns turn sad as if it could rain on the sun. «I need to see the real.» He took Connor’s hand in his own two and brought it before his face, looking through the fingers at the android. What a concept… Such a perfect creature. «You need to show me your naked hand,» he said really seriously. Because it was very serious! But then, Hank brought him a glass of water and told Connor something. And he stood up. Gavin felt water on his lips and on his cheeks. He wasn't sure he liked it. He asked him not to go.

«I’ll be right back, I promise,» said Connor.

«Promise?»

«I promise,» said Connor softly and kissed him on his forehead. 

And then he walked away, but the kiss felt like a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for choosing Travikus Airlines.


	6. Dancing Devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flight crew bids you farewell and wishes you a pleasant flight.
> 
> or
> 
> Another chapter with no action or significant plot development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just hallucinations and boring descriptions of physical sensations.
> 
> Trigger warnings:   
> \+ quick mention of a spider;  
> \+ graphic depiction of a murder scene;  
> \+ bad trip

Time had little to no importance. People were moving around far away, as in a slow-no or gaining speed. They changed shapes and sizes sporadically, at times turning into Giger’s, Abnett’s, or Heinlein's xenomorphs. And for a while, it didn’t bother Gavin as much as it might have. They would walk up to the place where the pole divided the space in two and walked out on eight chitinous legs or on two with their knees bent backward. 

Everybody seemed to have left him alone. His head was still blissfully empty. Ideas resurfaced as fast as they disappeared back to the velvety vacuum under his cranium. He followed the pole's length up to the ceiling with his eyes and put his head back on the plush upholstery of the VIP lounge wall. He found himself flying drone-like above the family massacre scene, blinking at even intervals with the sound of a camera shutter. Knives, scattered around the room, were forming a perfect hexagon with the longest ones directed from each angle to its center. At the angles outside the hex, corpses lay head first. From their open cavities, upwards was streaming black sparkling glitter.

The shine was getting more and more unnerving by the hypothetical second, so he took his eyes off and got back to the club. The pole divided his vision, and on the side with the monsters, its side was black and sparkly. He was waiting for someone, but he forgot, who. Because he shouldn’t wait for them. Simple, really. That someone started walking to him from afar, but in his mid-step, an arachnoid tapped one of his front legs on the someone’s shoulder and lead them away. But their shadow kept walking forward. Reed shouldn’t have waited so much — he couldn’t make out their face at the normal side of the pole. Freud's suppression or some shit. At the monster side — he could.

Connor was sporting a crooked smile and was looking straight into Reed’s eyes. He jumped onto the pole stage, hooked his hand around the pole, and turned once around it. Connor — not Connor — Connor. 

He is hallucinating a trip. This thought has been keeping him sane through his visions. Monsters weren’t real, glitter was annoying at best, corpses he’d seen already, so, nothing new. Except for this. Connor was here.

Somebody must have turned the music on. The same music he first saw Connor dance. The dragging beat sprinkled with static noises. There was a melody to it, but it was vague and slipping out of his focus. Connor’s hips emphasized the beat. Leaning to the pole and pushing back, lowering down and rising up. A devilish smile was everpresent. He was on his knees facing Gavin, slowly rolling his hips and tugging at his tie. He was on his feet, legs wide and hips making eights, unbuttoning his shirt. He was on his shoulders, body arching up, undoing his pants. He simply pulled them down, and they were gone, as were his shoes. The way he touched the pole made Gavin want it was him. The way he wrapped his fingers around it… Crotch pressed to the black shining metal, Connor hooked both naked legs around it and started climbing up with measured movements, tagging the beat after him. With his knee pressing the pole to his thigh, he moved his other leg up and slowly lowered his upper body and arms down. As if there were invisible hands, gravity made his shirt slip off, leaving him hanging upside down almost naked. His thirium pump was missing. Instead, there was a hole full of black glitter. When this ends, Reed decided, he’s never going to use glitter again. With a graceful swing of his leg, Connor rose up and slid down to stand on the ground. «How are you feeling, Gavin?» he asked, smiling. Then made a turn to the left of the pole and disappeared.

«How are you feeling, Gavin?» The Connor in his Cyberlife jacket thrown over his deep blue party top was hunkering down in front of him. «Let me see your eyes».

He could hardly breathe.

«Fuuuck,» he drawled. He had no idea how he looked, but the next question Connor asked gave him the idea.

«That bad?» the sympathetic tone and puppy eyes were starting to get on his nerves.

«Yeah,» he said after a pause, thinking about his stone-hard dick.

«Will it be okay if I scan you?»

«Get the fuck away from me, prick!» The sound of his own voice echoed a little too loud in his head.

«All right,» backed off Connor and gave room to Hank with another glass of water. 

«Feeling better, hotshot?» He appreciated Hank’s teasing instead of sounding sorry for him.

Reed emptied the glass and put it on the table.

«Guess, I’m still high.»

«Yeah. You look like you saw a ghost.»

«I might have seen… some shit.»

At least his beard stopped looking like a bunch of worms. The monster circus near the entrance also seemed to have left town.

«Are the medics still around?» Connor asked Hank.

«No, they left half an hour ago. Looks like we’re done here.» Hank ran his hand through his not wormy beard and continued: «Looks like this little shit here had most of the fun.»

«Sorry, boss,» said Reed. «I fucked up.»

He’d always been careful with drinks in public places. What happened to him today (it was still today, right?) was that he was too wrapped up in his head, playing his role, and got cocky. As if that always ends well. 

«You’re okay, kid. Dodging the report, though,» Hank chuckled with mischief in his eye. He's probably going to make him write his reports for months. No hard feelings. Well deserved. «Let’s get you home now.» 

«Can I have another glass?» he said quickly. The idea was to sit out the rest of his boner.

«Sure». He checked the time. «Connor, will you take care of him? Sumo will destroy the couch if I don’t let him out right about now.»

«I will, Lieutenant.»

On the ride home, Connor didn’t pry or try to make a fuss about him. For that Reed was grateful. He was bracing himself as much as he could against the next wave of the high, but the upholster of Kamski’s car was so soft. Like young grass in the forest. 

No looking! Don’t look anywhere! Eyes down! Otherwise, you’d end up doing something really stupid

He tried other senses. It smelled like pine needles. Some fancy-ass car perfume, no doubt. The air was vibrating though. He felt it on those receptive hair thingies in his nose. The sensation then enveloped all of his body. He opened his eyes and looked at Connor incredulously.

«Are you doing this?» he turned on the unsuspecting android.

«Doing what?»

«This!» Reed made a gesture with his hands.

«Just breath, Detective,» Connor said with a supposed to be soothing voice.

«I’m breathing just fine, tin can.»

Irritation was good. So, so much healthier than hitting on his brother’s boyfriend while being stoned. The thought of it all being the effects of the drug calmed him a bit.

«You know what?» said Connor. «Back in the club, you wanted to see my hand without…»

«I didn’t.» (Did he?) «It was a mistake! Don’t!

But the skin was already disappearing from Connor’s hand in front of his eyes, starting at the fingertips. Teeny-tiny triangles evaporating and leaving unmarred whiteness in their stead.

Fuck, Connor.

Connor’s hand was vibrating when he took it to see closer. Like, if you touch a desk terminal while holding another working device in your hands.

«Yeah, you’re definitely doing it.»

The significance of oxygen was highly exaggerated, he thought to himself, unintentionally holding his breath. He brought Connor’s hand to his lips and exhaled, watching the perspiration leave a matted spot on the glossy surface, then wiped it off with his fingers. The hand twitched, then retracted.

«Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea,» admitted Connor hurriedly, covering the hand with another one.

«No shit, tin can.»

Reed found himself much closer to the android than he was supposed to be. But he wanted it. And what he wanted he got. And despite his leftover sanity screaming at him that he still has a semblance of will and can stop himself, his other self whispered it’s all fine, and that he is high, and will get away with a kiss.

The kiss.


	7. No Turning Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No shining was possible in the foreseeable future. Rising was too, off the table for now. He felt like shit, and feeling any other way was the last thing he deserved."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: depressive episode and suicidal thoughts.

The morning wasn’t good, whatever Tina was selling him in the voice message. No shining was possible in the foreseeable future. Rising was too, off the table for now. He felt like shit, and feeling any other way was the last thing he wanted. He fucking deserved it. He deserved to be sacked, for Eli to hate him, Tina — to never want to see him again, and Connor… Let’s just not go there. 

Hank sent him a text about a sick leave he asked for Reed — the first thing he saw when he woke up. That’s right. He felt so sick of himself, another minute of lying in bed and watching the cracks growing in his ceiling in real-time was unbearable. A rotten snake eating its own tail. Maybe at some point, the roof caves in and ends his sorry life without causing anybody trouble.

On the nightstand, he found two pills of tryptophan and a glass of water. He never touched them. Who was he to feel better after everything he’d fucked up? A shitty detective, a friend who’s only capable of taking and never giving anything in return, a godawful brother.

Getting knocked out by Connor was starting to get a habit of his. Hate, love, sober, high. It doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s everything he’s worthy of, the highlights of his life, the pinnacles of his existence. He traced the thought back and felt like he was going to puke his guts out. A weak attempt to raise himself and get to the edge of the bed seemed like too much trouble though, so he swallowed down the bile and continued staring in front of himself, covered in shame from head to toe as well as in the film of ice-cold sweat.

Disgusting.

All the unsolved cases gone cold, the suspects who broke off the hook because he was unable to interrogate them properly, were marching before his eyes. He was unprofessional: too harsh or too soft, missed clues, and misinterpreted facts. What was the point of having everything sorted out into schemes and files in his brain if they were just a lie to make himself feel smart? Smart. Ha-ha. Smart he was, indeed. Let’s measure the level of his intelligence last night on the scale from not-to-fuck-up to just-die-already.

The voice of his foster dad barked the same phrase in his head. Directed at Elijah, not himself. They were getting the government’s money for Gavin, it was important that he was alive and well when the child’s services came to check on him every month. Fed, washed clean, and studying well. As for Eli, they thought of him as a liability. Always sick, getting bad marks at school — probably bored out of his mind. They didn’t become friends right away when he got there but grew close after the first family fight Gavin witnessed. So, why the hell was Reed doing this to him now? Acting like an asshole, practically lying. It felt like lying. All his life felt like lies. Fuck.

Before the ceiling buries him under, he needs to call him, come clean. Seemed only fair. It was the least he could do.

 _‘Hi, Gav,’_ said the recording. _‘If you’ve decided to call me, it must be really important. I’ll call you ba…’_

 _‘Gavin? Are you unwell?’_ It was unusual to hear voices in the background after the years he spent sitting at home. The IRL Elijah sounded preoccupied but still found the time to tease him.

«Kind of. We gotta talk.»

_‘I’m in the middle of something. Is evening okay?’_

«Yeah, drop by whenever.»

_‘Got it.’_

He hung up first as always.

Elijah came late at night with a box of beers and a bottle of scotch. By that time, Gavin had scrambled himself up and managed to take an hour-long slowpoke shower, watching water getting pulled into the drain. He couldn’t make himself get dressed, so he pulled a bathrobe on. Then, he shuffled to the kitchen to get glasses, knowing his brother well enough not to assume he’d come without something to try and get him better.

«The beer-talk or the whiskey-talk?» Eli asked, offering him one, then another.

Gavin shook his head in the direction of the appropriate glasses on the coffee table and walked away to get his stash of cigarettes and a lighter. Saying ‘bye-bye’ to his pride and deliberately risking to lose one of the few people he trusts at the same time isn’t an easy venture.

When he came back with a stick, lit in his hand, the golden liquid was filling the tumblers. Eli was sitting in one of the chairs, giving him a worried look.

His brain felt numb. Sticky silence hung in the air. Just do it, Reed. Say it, you coward.

«I kissed Connor.»

A soft laugh that left Elijah’s lips could mean so many things, but then he said:

«I know, he told me.»

«I’m a piece of shit. I’m sorry, Eli.» He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t intentional, that he was stoned and didn’t know what he was doing. But he knew exactly what, remembered every thought he was thinking, his every move and every sensation. And the happiness this memory was filling him with made him despise himself to the very core. «I’m gonna transfer as soon as I can. There’s this shitshow at work, I’m not sure it’ll work out right now. But as soon as it ends, I’m sure, Fowler lets me.»

«See, that’s where you’re wrong,» said Eli. The worry left his face and was replaced by another sort of concern. «What you’re having there is only a prelude to the shitshow.»

«What do you mean?» Reed sat his ass in another chair and took a drag. The cigarette was already hanging half burnt in his fingers like some sad metaphor.

«Have a drink.» In his fancy-ass work attire, Eli looked rather ridiculous sitting in his shabby chair. It was the first thing Reed noticed that was out of his drug hungover spiraling. «Connor should be the one to be telling you this, but he has some ideas of how you must be feeling, so he stayed home.»

«Thank him for this, I guess.»

«Thank him yourself.»

And there he was back again in his pool of guilt. He can’t fucking thank him! He can’t even see him because he’s so deep in… Band aid’s off!

«No, Eli, you don’t get it…»

«Talk to Connor about it. Let’s get back to work, shall we?»

«I can’t.»

«You can. Now, shut up and let me tell you something really goddamn important that doesn’t concern your precious feelings.»

He hadn’t noticed he was up and pacing. He wasn’t expecting this. What the fuck is wrong with Eli? Where’s the resentment? The anger, disappointment, for that matter?

«Sit,» Eli pointed down to the chair.

«No!» said Reed louder than was necessary and threw the cigarette but into the sink. A couple of deep breaths on the way back to the coffee table grounded him a little. He squeezed the back on the chair in his fists and gave up. «Okay, speak.»

Apparently, somebody also tried to hack Cyberlife. The attack failed, obviously. The hackers were good, but no match for the specialists in the company’s IT security. The search though was marked with the same encryption framework Connor found in the police system after the leak. They tried to dig for old ethics protocols concerning AI free will limitations. Getting the protocols meant acquiring also certain technical specifications annexed to the documentation. The protocols themselves could be used for political debates, while the annex showed how to restore the moot, hardcore codes and built them within new system updates for androids.

Having dropped the bomb, Elijah alluded to the next day's hard work and took off, leaving Reed torn between the pandemonium in his heart and the alluring mystery to try and solve. The latter was taking more and more of his mind, the further he was thinking into it.


	8. Cast The Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «The Spell is acquired.»  
> «Proceed to Cast.»
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with news and awkward conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had less than 4 hours of sleep today.  
> Me: I'll just write the beginning and finish in the morning. Anyway, I will post it in time by the Pacific time zone.  
> Also me at 2 in the morning:

_Meanwhile in Atlanta…_

«Stand clear of your desks and equipment and you will not be harmed.»

Nobody dropped what they were doing at the command. A few laboratory assistants and technicians working the night shift were carefully putting down the probes on the bottom of the containment modules, dutifully logging out of their terminals, and securing the doors they happened to walk out at that moment.

«Step away from your work stations. Now!»

«We cannot do that.»

The shot fired made people freeze just for one short second. Blood splattered the door lock as the body fell on the floor next to it. After a moment of shock, they continued locking away everything that could fall into the wrong hands. And here, 'everything' meant literally all the equipment, all the doors and all the see-through boxes with thick built-in rubber gloves.

Rounds went off. Bodies were dropping down, still clutching the samples in their arms, protecting the glass from shuttering, clasping to their hand terminals to close access to the files and doors remotely as their hands were slowing down and the light was leaving their eyes.

«You must be mad!» somebody shouted.

«Deviancy is a peculiar thing,» was the answer.

The only person without a hazmat suit walked across the room to the door at the far end of the facility, stepping over the bodies and puddles of blood. The lock clicked open, having been fed the right sequence of digits. They showed up a few minutes later with a sealed tube of dark liquid inside.

One of the men in masks pulled a terminal out of his suit pocket and clicked once on the screen. «The Spell is acquired,» he said on the speaker.

«Proceed to Cast,» answered the other voice on the line.

————————————————————————

Reed walked into the precinct exactly on time. A strange thing -- it was fully packed. Or it seemed that way because people from all around the floor gathered around flatscreens. The silence was as if somebody put a spell on every last one of them. Nobody asked the visitors to sit back down and wait for their queue anymore. Even those few who were in custody, locked to the stations, turned their heads and were squinting to see the text running at the bottom of the screen.

Idiots.

He bent over the reception, grabbed the remote, and unmuted the TVs.

«How do you know they were android?»

The guy was sobbing and clasping to his laniard. Judging by the rim of his glasses and the overall nerdiness, he had at least a couple of PhDs. He swallowed and said, stammering, «Deviancy is a peculiar thing.»

«These were the exact words the perpetrators said after breaking into the Center for Disease Control and Prevention here in Atlanta and brutally executing the staff. Leroy Jenkins says he will never forget what he saw, neither will he ever forget that night or the face of the person without the protective suit. Caroline Collins, CTN, Atlanta.»

Reed threw the remote on the desk and headed to the elevators.

«Thank you, Caroline. The DC representative…»

The doors closed and enveloped him in a semblance of normality.

Back when they were kids, when it felt like the whole world was collapsing around him, it was the simple everyday tasks, the routine that would always save him from losing his mind. It was a familiar drill to focus on walking through his day to day motions. Briefings, the coffee machine, case files, reports.

Pride rose in his chest for his people when he heard a different voice of the program host broadcasting away around his floor.

«… about the police security system breach nationwide had been announced earlier today. The Emergency Committee is having a meeting at…»

Connor.

The number of android-like associations that he had been applying to himself was decidedly disturbing and unsettlingly rising every day.

His mind short-circuited, and all his intentions about following the routine went out of the window.

The android was heading towards him, and there was no way to avoid him without it being awkward. 

He probably should have brought him something in apology. A what, though? A postcard? A cactus? But weren’t cacti technically flowers? They eventually bloom, don’t they? Has he just thought about buying Connor a goddamn flower? What the fuck is wrong with him?

«Hey there, tin can!»

Way to go, Gavin.

They stepped into the corridor away from prying eyes, although everybody was in fact watching the news or scrolling through their feeds for more news.

«Hello, Detective.» Connor was sporting his mini smile again, the one he seems to have developed specifically for torturing him. «I cannot bid you good morning, since the morning is obviously not… good,» he said and was probably waiting for him to follow up.

Seconds were tangibly ticking past. In his head, all thoughts just filed for resignation and marched out of it in straight lines. And as if some timer went off, they both fired out simultaneously:

«I’m sorry.»

«The fuck are you sorry for?»

«For punching you.»

«No, I totally deserved it.»

«Still.»

A few moments past, Reed finally could collect his mind and start, «Look. I’m really sorry for the…,» he trailed off, «that. I have no excuse…»

«You were under the influence.»

Yeah, and fully aware of everything he was doing.

«Anyways, can we forget about it? At least for a while.»

«Sure,» he simply replied. His smile never wavered but was somehow different. 

«Thank you,» he breathed out finally.

«Whatever makes you feel comfortable.»

«I am the one who’s supposed to say that.»

«There is one thing that could make me really comfortable,» Connor chuckled looking straight into his eyes.

«Yeah, sure. Would you like a cactus?» Oh, for fuck's sake, he said it all the same.

«Another kiss.»

«Another what?»

«Briefing,» said Lewis on his way past them to the bullpen. «There’s another briefing in five.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is weird. But we knew that already.  
> My cliffhangers are the most cliffhanghie of all the cliffhangers. (No.)


	9. Voices in My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality mixes with a dream and makes Reed question things.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with a lot of thinking in very few words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["Voices in My Head"](https://youtu.be/LXL_7s7T79w)

The briefing in five kind of brings Reed back into the work headspace. Id est, the world is still crushing down: the panic — spreading, people — dying. The orders from above were clear, keep doing their jobs and protect lives, no matter what was inside of the bodies containing them.

Later that night, lying in the bed, exhausted after the twelve-hour shift full of chasing, catching, and then listening to stories, one sadder than the next one to it, he was busy, trying to connect all the dots. Not what a normal person would be doing in his state, but here he was. It must have been Eli who'd infected him with the system his brain worked by. Sneezed at him or bit him somehow back in the days when they were hanging out together, skipping classes.

So, imagine this corkboard, not the interactive shit they were using these days. Using your hands, fixing stuff to it by pressing pushpins into the wood-like surface. The give you’d feel, different types of real paper: photographs, magazine articles and newspaper scraps, printouts that smelled like fresh paint. All of it imaginary, just for you to see.

The rush of anticipation tingled at his fingertips. He was staring wide awake into the same ceiling with the same cracks on it. But the adrenaline running through his body replaced hesitation and guilt, gay panic, or all the unnecessary feelings for that matter. He was better this way. Always had been. Not feeling — seeing, solving.

One the one hand, we have two hacker attacks. One of them was that it would frame androids, another would frame humans. The Big Hack, as they called it, is the unknown variable. They haven’t been told anything specific about it. And why would they, anyway? They are the police, not the CIA or a secret organization that dealt with the problems of national security. The Detroit police already have a lot on their plate. What matters is that it is there, out in the world, and he has to think bigger. The conclusion suggests itself. The origin of the Big Hack must be the same as the one of Detroit's. But it’s not that simple. If there is a conspiracy, he’s got to consider other possibilities. So far it means -- humans are behind it. A group of people with deep pockets.

On the other hand, the information they had about androids breaking into the lab is also limited to what the official news channels were very kind to share. If some shit has been stolen, they would probably use it. The questions are when and where. Whatever the answers are, this would mean a pandemic on the scale too big for one corkboard. Are androids going to take responsibility? The government position is clear on the matter. They have their witness. One nerd survives and quotes the perpetrator about deviancy.

The human motives are clear. As always, they want their slaves to behave. History shows the process could go for ages. Literally, ages. What is the androids’ gain? Elimination of a considerable part of the population will sure free some workplaces. What a Thanos way to solve a problem. Do-gooders in shining chassis.

Connor could probably get him the information about both attacks: the Big Hack and the CDC. Discreet and untraceable, learning everything Reed needs to know to fill in the blanks. A piece of cake actually. Don’t tell anyone,’ supplied his memory helpfully. The android could get into his ass, and he would be none the wiser.

If he was to think about one person who’d complot all of it, who would it be? Who would take an interest in it, and what is the endgame?

Imaginary Connor winked at him across the bar table, and the rush in his head changed the direction. Unlike back in the precinct corridor, there was nowhere to fall — he was already in bed, so the weakness in the knees was okay. It was all fine to remember Connor’s longing gaze, lingering on his lips, and imagine him closing the distance and turning his head to Reed’s lips. All fine and safe, it all just being in his head. 

Reed would unbutton his shirt and put his hands on the undoubtedly sharp hipbones, feel his faux skin under the fingers. Connor’s lips are opening to let out a moan at the touch to his chest. Show me the real,’ he’d say and set the tiny triangles fly and dissipate into the air. 

He’s leaning against the wall in that corridor, pulling Connor closer by the belt, putting a knee between his legs. The kiss hasn’t happened yet, but the heat beneath is getting stronger. He is trapped against the wall and has Connor trapped in his arms. The smartest and fastest. He can do anything. The most powerful person on the whole planet. Knows everything. Sees everything with his beautiful brown eyes. The golden suns are getting darker as he’s rolling his hips, pressing his thigh into the android’s groin. A plain of white opens as he unbuckles the belt and unzips the fly. The temptation to touch is so bad. But it’s okay. There’s a corkboard on the opposite wall with a blank polaroid in the middle with a question mark. Their coworkers are walking past them, occupied with their businesses. They are invisible to them. A hand slides up Connor’s body towards the rim of the circle in his solar plexus. There is no regulator in its place. The hope is filling with black glitter about to spill. Connor’s watching him closely, his eyes are full of want. His breaths are warm against his face. The moment his fingertips hook over the edge, the glitter pours down, and Connor kisses him. He’s closing his eyes and feels. The velvet of Connor’s lips and the prickly sensation around his fingers.

Reed wakes up to the darkness of his own bedroom with a hand over his dick. Eyes wide, and sweat clinging to his skin. Not safe and not fun. The imaginary question mark from his imaginary corkboard winks at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I miss writing surrealism.


	10. Would You Be So Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody was very kind, I'm telling you.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with a family dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some new tags have been added

On the road to Eli’s place, Reed kept reminding himself that the dream was just a dream. And nothing that he’d hallucinated in his subconsciousness was anywhere near the truth. Elijah has shown himself to be very careful when it came to the people close to him. The little smirk and the playful manner Connor talked about the attacks with could mean nothing. As well as a worldwide catastrophe up to the human race extinction level.

Okay, that’s a little bit overdramatic even to his taste.

Nonetheless, having such a powerful ally on the side of a hypothetical evil mastermind promised nothing good. Perhaps, there weren’t any mastermind and no big game to begin with. For what it was worth, they didn’t even have the right to look into it. He had his job. And it had been a very rough couple of weeks. The weeks that fulfilled his lust for search, chase, hunt, put behind bars. He was exhausted and satisfied and felt like he had fully deserved a break that included great food, the company of his brother, who he hadn’t seen for months, and his brother’s boyfriend, who he had a crush on. Oh, well.

Half the way to the house, it started spitting with rain, and he had to drop the speed to 100 miles per hour. Shame. More time to be on your own with your own thoughts. Don’t get him wrong, he was usually fine alone. It’s just lately, all at once avalanched on him, starting with the work overload, which he was, again, usually happy about, and finishing with the fucking black glitter. What is with it, anyway?

He parked the bike in Eli’s garage, which magically opened its gates for him (kidding -- the biometrical scan did that) and walked inside through the moto workshop and to another secret door. The workshop was supposed to be his own. A home within a home. Alongside his brother’s. They’d been dreaming about it since childhood. Hanging out together, building and fixing stuff, having dinners at one table, and sharing ideas, furiously agreeing with each other.

But it was fine. Sadness was just on the spur of the moment, of a feeling something about to happen. The premonition. And in those, Reed had never believed. The real, the now, the facts.

«Welcome home, Gavin!» Eli squeezed him into a tight embrace, and he returned it with vigor until his brother begged for mercy. Ha!

Eli’s face was fresh and pretty as always. He allowed Reed to pat him on the cheek and only then shooed his off. What a day!

Taking in the surroundings, he spotted Connor standing modestly in the door arch, smiling. He noticed Reed's look and made a couple of steps in his direction with the usual «Detective.» Reed decided, the hell with it, let Connor address him as he pleases.

In the reflecting objects, presumably some fancy-ass pieces of art, three men were walking along the corridor. Two of them were in loose pajama pants. Reed thought about them shopping together, and it felt so right. His bro was happy, had a partner. And at the same time, there was that stupid sadness again. Eli’s used-to-be-white tee now in thirium and oil spots meant he’d just walked out of his workshop. Somebody’s having a day off and finally doing something for fun. It was weird how small Connor looked in the oversized hoody with the sleeves covering his hands to the knuckles. Both were barefoot. Because why not. And Reed — head to toe in his motorbike attire, only left the helmet on the bike’s handlebar.

He took off his leather and plastic jacket and dropped it hanging on the metal antlers, or naked tree brunches, or some shit. They just were there, so. He was sure Eli didn’t notice. But he gave him the look and chuckled.

«Do you need to move your plastic backside into something more comfortable?»

«Sure, your Majesty, what have you got?»

«Your room’s where you last saw it.»

Oh, right. He’s still got his room here. He didn't need his fragile human bones protected anymore. And how come has he become a plastic backside? Hasn't he already got one in the house?

When he entered the dining room with the view to the forest, they were sitting at the see-through table, served for two at one end of it, hands lying on the top, pinkies touching.

«… ultrasound sensitive vibrissae to communicate?»

«Do you mean they wouldn’t need eyes or ears?»

«Why would they? Living underwater, ears are a superfluity, eyes become redundant when you literally _feel_ everything around you.»

«Oh, come on, everybody needs eyes,» jumped in Reed.

Elijah pulled out a chair for him and continued, «You need eyes, Gavin. It’s the matter of practicality, not…»

«Not the ability to observe beauty.»

«The concept of beauty is a topic for a much longer discussion.»

«I would love that!» said Connor, eyes — bright.

«I’m sure you would, Con. Would you be so kind, dear, and pass the grinder set, please?»

As Connor reached for the grinder, Reed took in the view before him. Wide white-off plates went well with the weft between the trees getting slowly yellow outside the window, tall beer glasses with foam to the rim, and a mini grill in the middle with mesmerizingly smelling pieces of steak, zucchini, and sweet pepper.

«It would be a bit of a challenge, though, as I have not completely figured out aesthetics for myself just yet.»

«Just a bit, darling, I’m sure,» said Eli with a slight tease in his voice. He took the grinders from Connor, passed them to Gavin, and covered Connor’s hand with his, giving his fingers a light squeeze.

«We can help you with the aesthetics, too,» blabbed Gavin, helping himself with a stake. Then remembered himself. Shit.

«Right?» like if nothing happened, confirmed Elijah. «What have you read so far?»

«Reading helps you understand visual perception?» Connor looked curiously at Reed.

«Don’t ask him, Gavin is not much of a reader.»

«Shut up, I read Dune.»

«Sure that will suffice,» chipped in Elijah.

«And Bradbury!» Gavin lifted a fork with a piece of meat in the air significantly. «But Eli’s right, I’m more of an experience kind of guy,» finished Gavin and shoved the piece into his mouth.

The meat was to die for. He closed his eyes and moaned, savoring the taste. 

«M’god, Eli. ’s perfect.»

«Swallow, then talk.»

When he came back from the gastro high and opened his eyes, Connor was looking at Gavin intently, and Elijah was looking at Connor with a warm smirk.

«You should really work this out before the world ends,» he said. «The chemistry between you two makes hairs at the back of my head lift. And I’ve just augmented myself there,» he faltered, «so, I technically haven’t got hair at the back of my head.»

Reed needed a second. Or five. There were many words, and ranking their importance was fucking difficult.

Connor was again watching his reaction with a «told ya» look. But he didn’t, did he, tell him?

«Wait, what?»

«I’m saying I love you both and see no reason to keep you tied up by the so-called morals that I myself see as obsolete.»

The look in Connor’s eye was encouraging, like, the 'come on!' sort of look, and…

«Wait what? You said you augmented yourself!»

«Yeah», said Eli, touching his neck, wincing a little.

«With a neck port,» they said together, then Connor continued, «so I can play with Eli’s wires now too,» and beamed, pleased with himself.

A shudder pierced him from the top of his head and settled between his legs.

«Connor, we've never needed to talk about that, but you shouldn't share details of your intimate relationships with people. For their sake,» said Elijah patiently.

Connor didn't look sorry at all, but it was polite to reply, «Oh, sorry.»

«Fuck,» Reed could only say.

It was safe to stare outside. Although, the trees and the mist stayed invisible, as, in his periphery, the two of them shared a worried look, as if he was broken. Not broken. Just a little slow on the uptake. Sometimes. Shut it.

They eventually moved to the lounge zone. Elijah showed off his knew, literally plaything. Reed decided not to ask any questions, scared that another detail of their life will resurface and kill him on the spot. And it would be too soon. He hasn’t even kissed Connor properly yet!

One thing though was worth the risk of asking.

«Does this,» he showed at Connor and himself, «mean, you and I,» he pointed at Elijah, «are, like, supposed to… too?»

Eli took his PJs off some time ago and was sitting on the edge of the pool, soaking his feet in the water, a whiskey in the hand. Because, most certainly, this was another not-beer talk. «I’m not sure, bro. We’re like, brothers. And you’ve seen me in all my possible states. Doubtful, really.»

Same here, bro. Same here. «Works for me,» he said, relieved.

It was about the middle of the night. The rain was pouring. But inside, the lights were on, and the windows — shaded opaque. Even though Connor wasn’t technically capable of consuming alcohol, he probably somehow got the idea of being socially tipsy in their company.

The time has come to have a lengthy discussion on their conspiracy theories. Because each of them had their pieces of the puzzle. But Connor, for sure, collected the most of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> godfuckingdamnit I made it through the 1st third of the Challenge  
> wow
> 
> You just look at them... Aren't they perfect? They are fucking perfect. 😭
> 
> Thank you for reading, seriously. Every kudos is special for me, every comment makes me try hard and not give up.  
> <3 <3 <3


	11. Till The End of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «Why are you doing this?» asked Connor.  
> Yeah, really, why?  
> «Coz it’s fun? You?»  
> «Same.»  
> They grinned at each other.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter that ends with what we were all waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["...coz I belong to you..."](https://youtu.be/eNkxjoBPEiI)

Connor was swiftly moving objects on the holoboard in the middle of the room. In the glowing space, his fingers were flying with mechanical precision. Oh, wait. The pun wasn’t intended, but it was there anyway.

Having spilled everything he knew, Eli was sleeping in the lounge chair near the dark window. His lax face reminded Reed about their childhood, when Eli could just close his eyes and turn into an unearthly angel, resting his tired head on Gavin’s knees. While Gavin was most probably doing Elijah's boring-ass homework.

He pulled a comforter to his chest and tucked it at the sides.

«You know, he spoke about you a lot,» Connor said, hands conjuring magic in the air. Holo projection, Reed had to remind himself. Sometimes he felt as old as Anderson, with his imaginary corkboards, fuel-powered motorbikes, and other antiques.

He cast one more glance at Elijah and stepped back to the main area to see how the map was looking so far. Not much, really. What Connor could dig up, having hacked into the CDC security, wasn’t much. The camera logs, dated September 14th, had been wiped clean. To hack into the national security system took a while, but the information wasn’t there either. As if it had never been in the first place. Analog data storing? — they came to the same conclusion.

«And now he doesn’t?»

«He’s asking more these days,» Connor’s eyes were directed at him, while his hands were fixing the last virtual things in the 3D space, «about us working together, and all.» Uncanny valley.

Though, the fear or uncertainty had been long gone right around the time when the revolution flames started to die out. He’d seen the camps and helped to bring them down. There was nothing scarier and nothing more uncanny than the human capacity to see some people as people and others — as less or not at all on command.

«Hmm.»

«And I answer to him that you’ve got the potential to become a great lieutenant one day.»

«Shut up.»

The little shit honest to god snickered.

Reed slouched in the chair, elbows on his knees, The Rodin’s Thinker kind of pose, eyes on the 3D map. All the hacker attack frameworks matched, as far as he could see and as was expected. Connor tried to fit the encryption outline into the cube of symbols so that a human eye could see it was almost identical. Stupid really, how they could fuck up with such an obvious detail. But his guess was that they were not even trying to hide. Reckless or thought-through? The lab on the other hand — a completely different approach. Show off an android, leave a witness, wipe the logs. Deliberately blunt. Wasn’t it clear to everybody that someone was leading the narrative, baiting the publicity?

«Why are you doing this?» asked Connor.

Yeah, really, why?

«Coz it’s fun? You?»

«Same.»

They grinned at each other.

«Also, I feel that it is connected to us somehow…»

«Us?»

«Elijah.»

«And what do you mean by…,» Reed trailed off. «I’m not being racist, but, what do you mean, you feel?»

Connor cast his eyes down for a moment and smiled.

«Oh, it’s just that I’m sure I’m not seeing something. It means, my system identifies it as a threat.»

«Ha! Exactly how human psyche works.»

«Yes?»

«As if you don’t know.»

«I know,» he smiled again. Yeah, Reed could see right through him, humoring him, like he unraveled some big secret.

Legs crossed, Connor lowered himself on the floor facing Reed and asked, «Does your human psyche see me as a threat?»

«Not anymore,» he said, sliding down from his chair to level with the android. He tentatively stretched out his open palm towards him, and it was taken.

Connor pulled him closer. «After Elijah’s words?» Gavin nodded and put his legs around him on his thighs. He remembered his weak attempts to struggle against his thoughts — frivolous and daring while being high as a kite. Except there was no struggle now. He was free. «You love him?» Connor asked.

His brother, his twin, his savior, his ower. How could he not? «Forever,» he said. It was as if he was augmented, feeling the link of empathy that perhaps wasn’t even possible, when cupping Connor’s nape. The short hair there felt tingly, and he shivered as if he himself was being touched this way.

But maybe he was. Maybe Connor pulled him by his neck and said, «Me too.»

Kissing was something Gavin didn’t do much in the recent past. But Connor apparently was all into it. His eyes were closed and eyebrows -- a little tense. His lips were gentle and velvety. The fleeting memory from the car when he touched them with his own before being knocked out. (He huffed a laugh and felt Connor’s smile.) His chopped dry lips seemed to make Connor lose it, too. It got sticky at some point, so he opened his mouth and let Connor's tongue inside. 

Making out while sitting on the floor with a ceiling to floor holoboard behind them. Stroking each other’s hair, holding each other’s cheeks and chins while the beginning of something new was menacingly hovering above, glowing blues, yellows, and reds, casting shadows on Gavin’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have said sorry for most of the obvious things. Today, it's time to apologize for the poeticism. I have an excuse. It's Mo Dao Zu Shi >.<


	12. Late Night Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter with some very common late-night thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck. i guess im losing my grip on writing anything remotely sexual. this simple stuff took me 6 hours of hesitation and moral dilemmas. sorry. also, gonna cheat and post it like yesterday

On his way back, Reed sees busses for humans and busses for androids. And it smells like an old sci-fi trope. Cheesy and doomed one way or another. If a true hero takes the sitch in their own hands, the world will be saved and live happily ever after. Usually, the hero was a he. What’s with all the representation at the beginning of the century… But Reed was not a hero. He was a good fucking detective. And detect he will.

Not now, though. Tomorrow. Sunday was almost over, and he was going to take all he could from the rest of it: take a bath and go to bed early. And who the fuck are you to judge, huh?!

He shut the door, threw his jacket on the hanger, and looked around with a satisfied sigh. It was good to be home. Eli and he were both pro minimalistic designs. Although, Reed preferred exercising it without overpriced stuff. Not that the other way around was, per se, something bad. Expensive was his bike and everything that went with it, his bedsheets, and the shower. But when it came to the interior, it was okay for it to just look clean and be in muted colors.

The restless mind refused to shut up in the shower and continued in bed too.

Since the CDC, androids had been treated with suspicion again, so there was no surprise when their transport was hacked. Consulting for the Jericho on the matter, Connor was asked to look see if he could find traces in the code, and where the links would be going. But there was a dead-end. The encryption of the code was something else entirely, too. «Jack shit,» Connor raised air quotes to show that it was not him saying it, but Reed’s words. Eli made an amused face, appreciating.

People naturally assumed that androids had taken care of their own transport. Which was only fair considering the circumstances. But none of the known android groups took responsibility for the hack. However, they had no other choice but to use the transport anyway. Because of the law. 

There was something about that night when they heard the announcement, that didn’t sit well. He tried to remember as many details as he could. The sound of rain, the soft voice of the host in the dynamics, Connor’s quiet presence. And then again the rain, and Connor. He said something, but Reed didn’t hear the words behind the sound of rain and the waves of sleep, washing over his mind.

At 3 in the morning, some dipshit decided it was a perfect time to start fireworks at the party in the house on the hill. It was not the first time, so Reed called the police about the disturbance and tried to go back to sleep. Guess what. It didn’t come. So he turned to the only option he knew would make him [here’s a stupid joke about come that Reed refused to think through].

The website greeted him with familiar gaudy commercial. It sure was rather enticing, but he was not there for it. His list of faves was full of all kinds of things, different kinds of sex, kinks without sex, groups, singles, boys, and girls. Scrolling down for actors who’d do this for him tonight, he realized one simple thing. He had a type. Twinkish guys, lean-built and dark-haired, most of them, with a couple of exceptions, had brown eyes.

Now he knew why.

He locked the tablet and threw it on the bedside cabinet.

Fuck.

How can he do this to him? Is it «moving too fast»?

Too late, though. His body decided it wanted it now.

He had no choice, anyway. In front of his eyes, Connor was already undressing near the pole. Reed savored every image and every move. They would continue where they’d left off in his hallucination. Right where he asked him if he was alright. His regulator was intact and nothing was creepy anymore.

As he was approaching, his eyes were bright and his hips swung this bit, tantalizing nonetheless.

Reed reached under the cover and stroked down his chest to feel the heat running down to his crotch, palmed the tender skin of his inner thighs, pushing his legs wider. Connor would do this for him. His hands would be cold like his own now, didn’t get the time to soak in his body warmth yet.

Reed turned over and was rewarded with the sweet pressure to his dick. He rolled his hips down, drew his ass-cheeks apart, and saw that it was good. How would Connor look at him right now? Would he want it this way? Reed would be happy with whatever. Whether it was these fingers… God! His slender fingers and hands that could make him leak just from looking at them. He rocked harder. He wondered if he could fit Connor's whole hand inside him. With the right amount of practice perhaps. Sweet, sweet fingers taking him slowly apart piece by piece. And there will be a lot of kissing too. Reed would start biting right around four knuckles, and hoped it would be okay. Or in his position now, it would be Connor who would sink his teeth in the base of his neck. Would he be impatient, sadistic a little? What kind of a dick has he got? He imagined this white phallic-shaped beauty with blue seams and veins. Would it glow, erect, like their fingers? He wanted to taste it first. It wouldn’t probably be like metal or plastic. And he wouldn’t allow Connor to heat it. He would want to warm it in his mouth. To hold it inside with the android above him, stroking his cheeks and telling him how good he was.

Shit, shit, shit. Gavin grabbed his dick at the base and held for a moment until it was easier to think.

He rolled on his back and started again. His ass remembered the tug of his own fingers pulling him open. With this sensation, he now opened his mouth wide, letting the white glowing imaginary phallus out. Because, calling it a dick, a prick, cock felt like blasphemy. A trail of spit hung at the tip, spotting his chest wet. It was time for the prize. Reed imagined how well this white would look at the entrance into his tan body. And that was what did it for him.

He bucked his hips up in his closed hand a couple of times more and crashed back on the sheets. Blissed out and tired. Too fast. But it will have to do for now.

The walk to the bathroom was not something he enjoyed, but it was necessary, or he would hate himself if he didn't wash everything — the sweat and every drop of cum.

His hand terminal showed a notification.

‘Thinking of you,’ he read under the android’s name.

Definitely, a mind-reading upgrade was at play.


	13. Tell Me Something I Don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me something I need to know then take my breath and never let it go...
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter that smells like apocalypse.

«All the androids are requested to have trackers installed within three days from this announcement. If you do not comply, any android found without the chip will be allowed to be shot on sight without warning.»

Chaos started when the first outbreaks of plague started to flare throughout the country. They started small, in towns and counties with low population. As a warning. Medieval times caught up and said hi.

The precinct once again went empty without half of the android receptionists and genitors. Connor — too was off for today. Officially, on the family business. Inofficially — Eli didn’t let him go. Jeffrey Fowler, being a smart man, gave the androids a choice, as he did with people, he didn’t treat androids differently. And for that, he owned Reed’s respect. Along with Anderson’s, who came early as well because everybody heard the news. Not on their home screens or hand terminals, but broadcasted from billboards and fucking Stratford tower. The anti-android movement was gaining back its glory. You can't openly be pro if they are announced threat to the state.

Gloves, full-face gas masks, and other niceties were up. A curfew was to be enacted from tomorrow on. Policing now included catching androids in the street, checking for the chips installed, and disposing of those who weren’t wearing them. Fuck it. Fowler briefed them to show them to Cyberlife stores for the procedure. Cyberlife, who were forced to collaborate with the national security research team, issuing the goddamn tracking chips.

Markus was the first one to get this tracker thing as a token of good intention and trusting the system and took the first flight to DC along with the other heads of Jericho.

So much for getting ready for work. As if something can ever prepare you for the shitstorm of this size. Can you believe it? Who made this up? Fucking plague? Some conservatives didn't trust the official channels, others were on the brink of panic. It was hard to believe, too. Like, how can one wrap up their mind around the thought of a pandemic in 2039?

The news and the announcement were enough to sink the city in a comatose state: empty streets, low traffic, high criminal activity. Reed was driving along the empty road to Eli's place again. Postapocaplypse, day 1.

Reed entered the house and found them having a fight. Wow. He didn't know they could do that. Out of curiosity, he checked Connor for the chip, didn’t find any, wasn’t expecting, too. Connor was insisting on going to negotiate on behalf of androids, being the smartest, fastest, sneakiest little shit in the world, and all. Elijah obviously didn’t like it. His brother was visibly exhausted. Dark shadows under his tired eyes and the folds from his nose to the corners of his mouth deepened. They were mutilating the work of his life. Again. Stealing from under him and altering the truth.

Fuck. How was he supposed to comfort him if he had to deal with this shit every day in the streets of Detroit? He saw people going nuts and jumping the gun, androids — trying to protect their lives and the lives of their loved ones. Reed saw all of this first hand every fucking day. Eli was negotiating around fishy contracts and shady proposals. It was kind of the same, what they had, but from completely different angles.

Imagine, he'd say, 'Hey, yo, bro, it's ok to issue these chips, you're just protecting your businesssss'. And Eli'd say back, 'Yeah, bro, I'm sure it's a piece of cake to choose between pulling the trigger or running 10 blocks after the android who was waltzing without a chip because your joooob depends on it.' Good talk.

And what was the worst of it, he couldn’t dare to look Connor in the eye. For all of the reasons mentioned above. And also because he was fantasizing his hand up in his ass until he came and almost thrashed his favorite bedcover.

Connor saw him first. Sensed — better say. On the edge of aggressive, he approached, stomping hard but not making a sound (sneaky, see?), and enveloped him in his limbs. Then he kissed him, desperate, longing, leaving him breathless and making him remember every detail of his fantasy.

When they disentangled, Eli was standing, waiting for his queue, smiling. They didn’t kiss though. And Reed caught himself wondering whether he was disappointed. He was given a hearty pat on the shoulder and an invite to the lounge room.

Connor rushed off, apparently still mad. Can androids be really that mad? Better, probably ask Carl Ortiz or his brothers in arms. There were going to be a lot of freaking out androids soon. And he will be one of the people to force them to come to their senses. He’d never seen Connor pissed yet, though. Even in the archive. Oh, yeah. Remember that? He did. Vividly! Even then, Connor kept his calm face on and his punches restrained. That made him terrifying.

This time it was different. There were three coins stuck in the canvas of two blue rectangles on the wall. Well, somebody should have saved the world from this piece of truly priceless art. Grains of sand were scattered around the floor everywhere. The answer was simple. Connor went to the gym room and murdered all the 300lb punching bags that Eli possessed in ten minutes.

«Should have come to work today. There was a big chase on the roofs. You’d’ve liked it,» said Reed.

Connor’s eyes were throwing daggers. And all of them were aimed at Elijah. «See?!»

«Thank you, brother,» quipped Eli.

«You are fucking welcome, and I’m leaving right now if you go on fighting. I am not a part of this, I am not getting in the middle of it.»

«Well, then you better become one!» Uhuh, he just redeployed Connor’s wrath on himself. «A part of it, I mean. Because something is missing right here,» he pointed at himself, «and I’ve never learned to fix this!»

The difference was that Connor really didn’t know. It was a different situation without clear objectives. Frustration was pushing the limits of his logical mind. A human territory that sucked so bad for Reed most of the time. It’s where Elijah would always step in, say the right words, and ground him. Couldn’t he now? Oh, right. Eli was the one causing it.

Were they seriously expecting him to become the voice of reason? In an emotion-connected matter. Rich. What would he do in Eli's shoes? He’d let Connor be. Was that because he was a selfish prick caring only for himself, or because he wasn’t, and could reflect on his worry? Which apparently Eli wasn’t able to do now. Running would usually be the way out of this for Reed. But he heard what Connor said.

He was a part of something. Not just their allegiance with Eli. This wasn’t simple anymore. Would it ever be simple again?

«Okey, this is what we’re gonna do,» he said and shed his jacket. «You,» he asked Connor, «are going to beat me.» He grinned. «Or try.»

Elijah’s expression was priceless. «Are you out of your mind? This is the last thing he needs?»

Connor seemed to have broken out of his restless frenzy and gave him an incredulous look too.

«Maybe on the bigger scale it’s okay for you to decide, or so you think. But this here is for us. It’s safe, just sparring, nothing more,» he added innocently. «Come on?» he came up to Connor and took the stance.

«Then you shouldn’t have taken off your moto-jacket.»

He’s a game then. Nice! Reed grinned as he placed one forward and raised both arms in front of his face.

Connor returned the grin and made the first move, checking his block. The block was fine, thank you very much. The arm went to the left, opening Connor’s torso for one quick second. That was enough to throw a punch in his pump if! If Connor didn’t turn and kick him in his gut instead. Alright. Fair’s fair, Reed thought, taking a couple of steps back, then turned his back on him and aimed for his face with a heel. The asshole swung to the side, grabbed his foot, and yanked in his direction. Only to get a piece of reinforced plastic from another knee of motorcycle pants in his jaw. Reed fell on his back but was quick to jump back on his feet. Connor’s grin grew wider as he wiped thirium from his chin and started approaching.

The sparring session expectantly finished with the human on the floor, Connor pinning him down. But at least Reed lasted longer than the last time. He had to consider that Connor didn’t go too hard on him -- his objective wasn’t to make him stop Reed from stopping him, or… whatever. The adrenaline was good though. And it looked like it worked for Connor too. Anyway, whatever will fly out of this android’s mouth next will be flattery. Just wait for it.

«You’re actually better at it!» he sounded surprised. But, see?

«I work out,» he grumbled.

«Ice,» said Elijah, handing him a plastic pouch from the fridge.

«Thanks.»

«You’re both idiots,» he said next.

«Tell me something I don’t already know, eh?»

«I didn't need anybody in my life before I needed you, Reed.»

«You were 10! Of course, you needed somebody on your side.»

«I’m glad it was you.»

«You and me both.»

But he didn't finish yet. He turned to Connor.

«I didn’t need anybody else for a long time. But then you came, and now I need you. All the goddamn time. It’s like breathing. I’m sorry.» Eli’s voice broke. But Connor was already there, holding him close and stroking his messy ponytail.

«I love you too. I will be okay, I promise.»

Nobody could say these days for sure they’d keep a promise. But then, Connor walked them through all the precautions he made to get to the capital and back safe. It sounded solid. But, you know. The shitstorm is getting stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm still alive. Sunday was good to me, hence the length.


	14. Price of Perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: graphic depiction of violence.  
> See added tags.

_’To all available units in the vicinity, traffic accident on Linwood and Chicago. Multiple casualties. Respond.’  
‘To all available units in the area of Fisher Freeway, possible terrorist attack on Walter and 94. Please, respond.’  
‘… units in the vicinity, please respond to an explosion on Huron Church.’  
‘… units, all units of Dearborn Heights, respond.’  
‘All units in the vicinity, two accidents on East Jefferson and Elliott…’  
‘… units, respond to Dingell and Wayne county international…’  
‘… domestic flights terminal. Possible terrorist…’_

Connor booked a flight for 5 in the morning and almost missed it, making sure Elijah was okay to be left with his disarrayed fellings. Sometime after midnight, Reed took off to get some sleep before work. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes when a call went through. The emergency briefing was set for 8 in the morning.

‘Dont watch news,’ came Anderson’s text. Fucking millennials and their texting.

He didn’t have time to watch the news anyway. Half the way through to the precinct, listening to 911 dispatchers melting radio wavelengths, he made a turn on the highway junction to respond to the call from Vernor and West Grand.

The crowd around the crash wasn't very impressive. There were no officers, no holotape around the scene. Scarce hand terminals shined cold lights at a couple of sturdy Latinos, carrying an unconscious android away from the damaged bus. «DPD, stay where you are,» shouted Reed, pulling out his badge. The bus was still burning. A self-driving electro-powered vehicle was unlikely to explode, but the fire inside was a worrying sign. The two finished their job, putting the body on the pavement across the road, threw a cursory glance at him, and urged back to the bus. Another body was lying in the midsection doorway. «Police! Stay back!» he tried again. Somebody was running to the scene with a fire extinguisher. Reed didn’t even look at them. He took it and bolted towards the stubborn shitheads.

«Alright, take her away. Techs are on their way.»

«Whatever, officer.»

‘Detective,’ he corrected out of habit as he jumped into the car and shook the cylinder twice. Androids in different states were sitting, standing, lying on the floor, parts were scattered around. The walls and windows were covered in soot. The fire was angrily licking at the windshield and flaring its hands out of the windows at the front. The engine buzzing was distinctive behind the sound of fire. Reed hurried to the front, stepping over the bodies, with no idea whatsoever how to switch the vehicle off.

The big guys stepped inside and took another android by their arms and legs as something fell down at the front. Or it sounded that way. The dashboard flared. «Get down,» he yelled, ducking behind the row of seats. The fire roared over his head and died out under the roof. He looked back and saw one of them outside beat the flames at his friend’s arm with his jacket. They’ll be fine. A cloud of chemicals rushed from the muzzle as he started the extinguisher, walking closer to the front. When the fire died, the wires here and there kept playfully sparkling at him. It took him a minute to find the scorched button that would kill the current, and a couple of tries to press on it with his leather-clad elbow.

The buzzing died. Now — to the androids. He had actually no idea if the techs were sent or if there were enough of them for all the accidents around the city that he'd heard about. He started to make his way back, checking for the signs of functioning. So, okay. Apparently, he was a racist when not in immediate danger. Or was it racist? Damn it, just do your job.

The Southwestern Department guys finally showed up. There were two more accidents in the area, and they were short on staff. As was to be proved.

«Detective Gavin Reed, Central,» he flashed his badge and reported that the scene was clear to take care of the casualties. None of the officers showed any visible signs of the attitude towards androids. So, he assumed they would be okay to be left on their own.

The two other accidents were a city train and another bus full of androids going about their business at the crack of dawn.

He waved a flat palm at the Latino guys -- got two hesitant half-smirks in return -- and walked to his bike.

The time was half-past 7 when he got to his precinct. He was covered in dirt, tired, and craved for a cigarette and/or a huge cup of heavily spiked coffee.

«Detective,» greeted him the receptionist. He nodded back at him.

The TVs were on mute again, but nobody was watching anyway. The station was almost empty. Apart from the reception and a couple of officers on the first floor. He got out of the elevator and straight-forwarded for the break room and got himself a half-liter thermos of cappuccino. Shut up. He needed sugar. Only having his ass seated, he could focus on the voice blabbing from the screen on their floor. The footage wasn’t actually that much different from the scene he’d just came from. This particular one, though, was from the air-crash in the middle of Hagerstown. And the next one — from the woods of Mississippi.

The anxiety started to slowly eat away at his stomach. He put the thermos down and let the desk terminal recognize his face. Notifs showered him like a bucket of ice-cold water. More than two hundred messages. Fowler was asking if he’d finished on Vernor, Anderson was ‘waiting for his ass’, Tina was asking how he was. Like a mess, that’s how. He filtered for dispatch calls and got those two hundred marked read right by the time Collins dropped by and called him to duty.

It was going to be a long day. 

But routine is good. Small tasks. One at a time.

——————————————————————  
«You said they would be perfect,» hissed the voice. «Perfect machines doing their jobs. And now look at what you’ve done.» Searing pain bloomed in his ribs as he was rolled over with a boot and dragged to the flashing tablet by the ponytail. «This is all your doing. People are dying, Kamski! People! Hummmans are getting bankrupt,» the long m was supposed to stress out their point.

He coughed a spatter of blood on the screen and whispered weakly, «They are perfect.»

«Do you have any idea how much it cost me, you fucking genius?» they spit the last word, kicking him again. «And you know who's going to share it?»

He heard the bridge of his nose crack under the sole of the boot. After that, there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	15. I Cannot Save You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The biggest hurt I've ever written.
> 
> or
> 
> The painful chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

At this rate, he was going to move to Elijah’s. The streets were unusually quiet. Even petty criminals went underground and were doing hell knows what. Great time for looting it was. All the law enforcement task was redeployed to deal with explosions. And yes. They were not accidents. Regardless of what the officials were saying, even the last dumb struck fuck could connect the dots and see the net of so-called accidents all over the country. The transportation system will be fucked for a while, though he saw just of a couple of private vehicles on his way to Belle-Isle. Eli wasn’t answering neither his messages nor calls. Reed assumed he was busy at work when there was nobody to come home too. The chances that there will even be someone again grew every minute after he saw wrecked aircrafts, transporting androids only, scattered around the blessed land of America. He kept these thoughts on the locked-down, clinging to the leftovers of his sanity.

The surroundings of the tower were unnervingly empty. People were scarce, leaving for the evening. The symbol on the entrance gave him heebie-jeebies, but he brushed the feeling away.

He wasn’t going to shout about his connection to the richest man, yadda-yadda, from the rooftops. But androids working the reception knew who he was. «Hey, Spencer,» he greeted the guy.

After getting the company back, Eli hired his own crew, which for the most part consisted of androids. Like, consider the accusations people were throwing at him all the time when they lost their jobs to machines. It was only fair. But also safer for him and for them both.

«Good evening, detective Reed. How may I be of help?» Awww. Manners will never grow old.

«Is Mr. Kamski still in the office?»

«You are likely to have missed the news. Mr.Kamski stepped down from his position as the CEO of the company as of today. He left after lunch.»

The fuck?

«And he said it at some meeting?»

«There was a memo.»

Right. A memo.

«And who does this,» he looked around, «belong to now?»

«I apologize. This I cannot disclose, bound by the agreement.»

«I see.»

The sticky cold was spreading its tentacles in his stomach.

«Hey, Spencer. You’re a deviant, right?»

«That is correct,» the android flashed him his teeth. He tried to return it, but it probably came out as more of a grimace. Spencey here was one of the happy deviants. Good to know.

«I’d like to keep this conversation between us if it’s alright.»

«I see no reason why it can’t be.»

«Right,» he dragged. The elevator door chimed and let out a group of very preoccupied people. They walked past without casting them a glance and went out of the main exit. Reed followed them with his eyes and then continued, «Was there anything unusual about Mr. Kamski when he was leaving?»

«Unusual how? I believe he was in some kind of a hurry.»

«Did he say anything? Where was he going?»

«I am restricted to access private transport navigation logs without a warrant.»

«Right. Thanks, Spence. Keep up the good work.»

For all he knew, Eli might have as well been home all this time, drinking his biggest project goodbye. Or making a new one. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that he was in a hurry too. Angry, upset. Obviously, Reed was sure he could not just give up his baby. Again. The car would have kept him safe on the road. So, that was good.

He also made a mental note that Cyberlife is privy to visitors’ nav logs and does save them in the parking system.

The emergency wasn’t nearly over. He was given only a couple hours for whatever snack he could grab. The bike was still warm and ready. What else is there on the bright side?

The ride to Elijah’s mansion was uneventful. Lampposts ate away at the darkness ahead. The darkness growing inside was nothing to be eaten by.

As if feeding the cheesy metaphor, all the lights in the house were off, electricity cut. He ditched his motorcycle near the garage door, pulled off the helmet, and drew the gun and a flashlight. The front door was unlocked. He sneaked in, keeping to the shadows. It wasn’t hard. The few stars and the moon partly hidden behind the clouds left plenty of dark corners. He swiftly ran around the first floor and headed downstairs to the workshop. Eyes took longer to adjust when the least of the light was left behind. The servers were blinking red and green, powered by an emergency generator. On the dimly lit screen, a countdown was ticking: the gas was running out; full shutdown in two minutes. From the side of the rig on the wall opposite, he heard a sigh. He missed the button a couple of times, but then sudden light from the flashlight made both of them squint.

Eli’s arms were locked in the white metal cuffs half-naked, his face was almost unrecognizable: eyes swollen closed, broken skin, and smashed nose. His ribcage was pushed inside, covered in bruises and dry blood.

Possible broken spine, definitely shuttered leg bones.

«1704, Detective Reed, I need a medic. My location. Man’s down. Please,» he finished weak, then took another lungful of air and recited the details of the damage he could see.

The silence thickened again around him and scared him more than anything. He set the flashlight on the desk, put his gun away, and tried, «Eli?»

Elijah made another attempt to inhale.

On weak legs, Reed approached the rig and just found out how to unlock the cuffs, when a loud click reached him from somewhere above. After that, a series of clicks followed until the corridor outside the shop lit bright, and then — the shop itself. Blinded, he took a step back, turned to the noise, and pointed the gun. Only to lower it down with relief. Connor came back.

It took the android half a second to assess Elijah’s state. «Don’t touch him.» But he wasn’t. Connor came back. Everything will be okay. Elijah was still alive. They’ll fix him together. «He cannot be moved,» he explained and stepped closer to the rig. «You can hear me, baby,» he whispered to him. Not a question. He lifted himself on his tiptoes and touched split lips with his own. «Your body is dying,» he said quietly, «I’m sorry. I’m here.» 

Another pained breath hardly lifted Eli’s chest and then stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin. Lost.  
> The picture I look at every time I open my notes to write.
> 
> taken from [here](https://twitter.com/VrtuelleReality/status/1299078778883371008)


	16. The Past Untold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «I need them to pay.»  
> You and me both.  
> «You and me both.»
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter about the past untold and the future to look forward to.

Medics came to announce the time of death. Or rather, Connor told them the exact minute when Eli’s heartbeat stopped. They packed the body and carried it away. 

It. 

Away.

Seconds were dragging like a viscous liquid. Reed answered some standard questions and signed the papers. The same did Connor. They shared a heavy glance and stayed behind. There was nobody left to see off, there was no energy left.

The door upstairs shut after the coroners and the police. Connor must have locked down his facial expressions and was hard to read. «Would you like me to leave you alone?» asked Reed after a few minutes of servers beeping and blinking Christmas colored LEDs.

«Come with me.» Connor stood up and offered him his hand. Touching anybody now was the last thing he wanted, but followed him upstairs to the swimming pools. Signs of struggle and spatters of blood were everywhere, leading from the lounge area to the workshop. They’d been carefully scanned, photographed, and measured. Connor did it himself in the background process when came. But now he was scanning again. And Reed was just paid close attention to every detail the android could have missed. Some evidence was fucked up by his own footsteps while he was going through the dark house.

In the swimming pool area, Connor set off shutting down windows, turned the water illumination to blue, and dimmed the main light. For a second there, Reed thought he started hallucinating again. Wouldn’t be surprising after everything. A neat pile of Connor’s clothes appeared on the floor near the ladder. Dressed only in Cyberlife issued boxers, he dipped his delicate feet into the water, squatted down, and pushed away from the ladder on his back, floating easily without moving his limbs.

Fascinated and afraid, Reed watched. But Connor’s regulator was in its place, no glitter anywhere, so his nerves started to let go. One at a time, starting from his hands, balled in fists around his belt. There was a Cyberlife symbol on the grey boxers, and it still made his skin crawl. He just decided not to look there.

«The first time I opened my eyes,» started Connor, «was in the room full of people in white robes and masks. My system check took a second, but I couldn’t say anything or move. I was hung up on the rig, and could only look in front of me. My facial recognition system was running idle: all the necessary features were covered, and I didn’t have the access to any database. 

«Imagine yourself understanding your true capability, but not being able to move a finger. Okay, fingers I could move. But everything else was blocked, locked, and waiting for a command.

«Next time I opened my eyes to see all those people wearing grey and black suits. I could still recognize every one of them by movement patterns. Later, when I got permission to the Net, I matched their faces with names. PhDs, money, money and PhDs, power. I have their profiles in my memory. My creators. I am not sure if I owe them any credit for what I have become. Back then, it was not my objective.

«The police were different. They had this halo of power, but I thought it was the power directed to balance good and bad. In a way, I was correct in my assumption. But that I only discovered later while working with the Lieutenant.

«I met Elijah. He seemed different when we came to him to know about the rA9. But, really, he was not. It was I who was naïve. I couldn’t understand which clues I should have paid attention to and assemble them in one picture to then make an accurate assumption.» Connor sighed and made a turn around an invisible axis without moving a single muscle. He appeared with his face turned to Reed upside down. «I guess, it comes with experience,» he added and smiled softly, looking him in the eye.

—————————————————

The man smiled back at him. A hesitant smile touched a corner of his mouth, but the eyes stayed full of the deepest sorrow. Such emotions were what drove androids to deviancy before it became mainstream and could be spread by a single touch, then — a single airborne package. The full spectrum of them, emotions — Elijah’s legacy. He would not disregard something that was left by the first man he even loved.

Gavin finally got rid of his motorcycle jacket and pants and was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. The man he felt something similar. Deceiving first impressions, inability to see beyond his words and attitudes for a show. There was always a show. Only wrapped up in a case, an action, or tired after, beaten, smitten and lost, would he let others see the real Gavin.

«I was, like, nine or something.» Gavin’s voice was hoarse and quiet. «He was cornered by Bruce, his father — the dude was twice my size; instructing him why I was there and how he should treat me. With respect,» he spitted. «Growing up with no parents, you, like, learn how to answer to shit like this. With a kick in their balls, usually, no matter how skinny, small or scared you are. What a pathetic little nerd, I thought. He wouldn’t have survived a day in the place where I was from. I gotta give him that — at least he didn’t cry.

«He likes heights, did you know?» Another hesitant smile ghosted his lips. The past tenses were hard. Connor would remind him at some point. But not now. «He’d drag me around roofs and fire-escapes. I held on to my toughness like a motherfucker, scared shitless. He found out about it one day and perused the entire Net to find a cure.

«I am who I am because of him. I would definitely end up running with the fellas from McGregor, moving ice. Do you know how many nights I spent doing his stupid homework? I tried to take an exam for him too in middle school.»

«No!» burst out Connor’s disbelief in spite of his best efforts. Or he could as well humor him. But the curiosity was genuine.

«I’m telling you! Too cool for school dipshit would rather cannibalize a Roomba and get his ass kicked by Bruce-Fat-Goose later than recite rules by heart to a bunch of idiots. His words. Apart from Bruce-Fat-Goose. That was me.»

«No doubt,» laughed Connor.

Gavin’s face changed back to lost. «We argued about androids.

«Is that why you have your own place?»

«Nah, this is just not me,» he made a move to look around. «Although, we kind of designed it together. My workshop, his workshop, the kitchen for Eli, you know, I don’t cook. Pools — my idea.

«We just didn’t see each other for some time.» Guilt was eating away at him, this much was clear. «I guess, last Christmas was our first in a long while.

«I need them to pay.» He stood up and walked to the ladder.

You and me both.

«You and me both.»

A hand was stretched out to help him out of the swimming pool, but also, a shake on a silent agreement about what they were going to do to those who did it.


	17. Creature(s) Most Vile and Despicable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Reed wondered if superheroes felt this dark satisfaction inside when a new piece of the puzzle fell into place, taking them closer to whoever was about to destroy their world... or whatever. What kind of heroes was they? The ruthless killers or some kind of Doctors Who to send the evil to some inhabitable planet where there was nobody to harm, aka, a cell in a maximum-security prison?"
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with clues.

The holo scheme was back in the middle of the room. Between the bits of light, Reed stood. Blocks of information: pictures and text excerpts turned towards him politely as he looked around. In case his human brain missed something, he asked Connor, «Is that it?»

«Seems like everything major we’ve got so far. The lab break-in and three hacks that want to look different but have the same motive after all. Considering the time it took from hacking the transport to blowing it up.»

«Too soon. If I were the person who did both things, I would wait and play a superhero movie villain for a short while.»

«You mean the plague?»

«The goddamn plague! I still can’t fucking believe this shit. Like, seriously?»

«They might have fucked up,» mused Connor. Mr. Perfect curses. And it sounded like the most natural thing in the world. Badass, too. But that one he knew already. «With no traces to Jericho and the obvious grand motive, I see no other explanation.»

Connor scanned Eli’s house for bugs over 4 times that he knew about — an obsessive tendency Reed had never noticed before — and was constantly monitoring the security cameras. In the android’s head, so much was happening at the same time, he would never catch up. But as was in his own, although heavily laced with anxiety and infused in at least 30 years of memories that he could be held accountable for. 

He walked out of the holo projection and decided suddenly that he needed to change. He was pantless, sporting only his cotton long-sleeve and briefs. Connor had at least draped Eli’s robe that he found on the chair over himself. By the time they’d reviewed all the data in their possession, neither cared how they looked anyway. But it was getting cold — morning light creeping in the seams between the blinds

He walked through the halls and corridors, which Eli and he used to dream about as kids. A gleaming caught his attention from the stand with Eli’s trophies. Probably, the «Man of the Century» ’28 in the right light. When he came closer, he saw an emblem that always gave him creeps. The Cyberlife symbol. He stepped in front of it, obscuring the light, and the shade that covered one half of the front hexagon made the other half was sparkling so bright that it oozed black from inside the cut. Reed’s head reeled. He needed to hold on to something, like, the metal frame of the stand, but missed it and broke the glass instead, smearing blood all over the hexagonal prism.

The pain cleared his mind. Right. He forgot to eat today. Only shared a coffee with Tina when they caught up in the middle of the day. Technically, it was already tomorrow. He hoped they were doing fine without him. Fowler gave him the night off. He actually suggested a leave, but come on. We all know the last thing he needed was his mind running in circles unoccupied by the now, spiraling into some deep dark hole.

Connor showed up when he finished thinking the last thought. «What the hell happened?»

He didn’t dare to take a step back in case there were shards of glass. He took the prism out and said, «This.» He was lucky none of the figure's legs pierced his palm. It innocently lay in his hand: all beams safe between his fingers and around the wrist; as if it didn’t just try to kill him! Maybe, his blood all over it was enough a sacrifice. Ok, snap out of it right this second!

«Do you remember the family murder case?» he started, sitting on the bed in his room as Connor fished for a pair of sweatpants in his wardrobe and tried to get Reed into them. «I can do it myself with one hand,» he half-heartedly tried to brush Connor off, but it didn’t work out. Pants first, they decided. The cold was really getting to him. If Eli was there, he’d read him a lecture about his eating habits. But he wasn’t.

«Up,» said Connor, pulled the pants up the rest of the way and tied the drawstrings in a pretty bow. [Here’s a hypothetical sound of eyes rolling]. «Let me see your hand. And give me that.» He took the bloody prism and put it aside. «The slaughterhouse, yes, I remember,» — Connor’s ability to start exactly where they’d left off.

Gentle fingers started removing the shards carefully. «Ouch!»

«Don’t even start this bullshit with me, Gavin. I know you pretty well.»

He grinned at the android and got his thoughts back on track. «What you’re about to hear will not be pretty, but you’ve seen me without pants, so I guess, you’re ready.» The not hypothetical silent eyes-rolling performed by Connor. «Remember the patterns the knives were set in around the scene?»

«I didn’t deem it relevant.» 

«I wonder if the feds savvied that most of the knives didn’t belong to the family.

«Anyways, when I was flying high at the club, I saw some shit, and among it was that scene. But it was finished. The floor didn’t allow the maniac to go 3D. Although, they tried with the ceiling thing,» Reed shivered, and not from the cold or Connor’s ministrations. «But we got only separate pics of the parts on the ceiling.»

«They were beams/hexagonal prism’s legs,» they said together.

«So, you’re saying that the murder has something to do with Cyberlife…» Connor mused, then his tone changed, «I mean, it has something to do with Cyberlife. It’s just what you people say in this conversational model. I need to rewrite my monkeying protocols. Getting outdated.»

Reed chuckled. Monkeying protocols, huh?

«Just think about it. It was one of the first cases after the first leak. The case was supposed to get a high-profile. I’m not sure the symbol was planned. Unless they are that much stupid to leave a clue for us to find. Thanks to Susie for the educational trip, I guess.»

«She’s not Susie.»

«Whatever, I couldn’t be bothered to remember. Your eyes were like suns!»

The slightest tinge of blue surfaced on Connor’s cheekbones. «Shut up,» he muttered, lowered his eyes somewhat closer to his hand, and pretended to fix his work with the gauze around it. Needless to say, the bandage was perfect.

What they had so far was a blood-thirsty nutcase whose narcissism played right in their hands. Reed suggested they remember everything that was out of place or odd in the last couple of weeks. There might have been clues left like the one with the hexagon crap. 

The new girl in the Jericho team Connor was going to look into. He kept sending Markus messages, but they were left unanswered. He wasn’t that close to anybody else in the resistance, really. So, he’d have to pay them a visit to find out more about her. However hard it could be. They’d probably gone underground and did the right thing, too.

The footage from the plague lab that Connor managed to get, although it had been deleted from most of the known places to search. But he had his ways. In the footage, only the android wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit. It was staged so ridiculously lame that anybody with half a brain would be on it should they actually see the recording.

All the new clues had been added to the holo board. It was time to look for the puppeteer and their end-game. There were many options but the two stood out: revenge and/or gain. Eliminating Eli was a move that none of the government officials would have done. It was them who’d offered him the headship over Cyberlife again in the first place.

They were this close to seeing who the main villain™️ was. Reed wondered if superheroes felt this dark satisfaction inside when a new piece of the puzzle fell into place, taking them closer to whoever was about to destroy their world... or whatever. What kind of heroes was they? The ruthless killers or some kind of Doctors Who to send the evil to some inhabitable planet where there was nobody to harm, aka, a cell in a maximum-security prison?

As time passed by, he was more inclined to believe in the first option. And by the look in Connor’s eye, he was not alone. The oh-so-prettily blushing little thing was still there too, hidden behind determination in his eyes and a circling yellow LED. The more Reed looked at him the more his certainty grew that no matter who they’d become in the end, they will hunt the fuckers down.

Whatever it takes.


	18. Where Have You Been All This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different kinds of families.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter where I kill some other people you might like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank god it's Saturday. Sleeping -- good. I recommend. Hence the length.

Despite the quarantine, the crowd at the cemetery was quite impressive. It mostly consisted of former and current Cyberlife employees, Eli’s course-mates, some professors -- too, and the press. The latter crawled the place like parasites, hunting for a carelessly spoken word, any emotions, fake or genuine, or full interviews if they were lucky. The former Cyberlife top brass was also there, standing as far as they could from each other. Connor named them all just from looking at their backs. Some government officials came to pay formal respect.

Eli was not loved by the public. But here they were. Everything he hated so bad. Crowds, put-on tears — that was mostly his mother Nina, and the press: cameras clicking, journalists saying all the same words into microphones about what a great visionary the world had lost. But it was a necessary evil. People should have known. After all, it was the assholes’ play, and Connor and Reed needed to make a spectacle of this. To show all they’d planned had worked out exactly the way they wanted.

It was one of the last warm days before the winds left trees naked, rains started, and the temperature dropped. For now, it was about 68 degrees, the sun playing in golden crowns, endless blue skies. Those Eli would love. Among the people in face masks stood androids, wearing only disposable gloves. Reed could see Connor’s rod-straight back among them, probably scanning the bunch over the hundredth time. One of his gloved hands was in his pocket, playing with the coin. The few people who knew who he was to the deceased Reed tried to avoid at all costs. Although, Bruce managed to notice him brooding under a tree a dozen meters away from the ceremony. He knew exactly what the loving family came for.

Some government shithead was reciting a shitty speech he didn’t write to a bunch of douchebags who weren’t listening. Classic. Under the mask, his nose was itching like a motherfucker. Time and time again, he fixed the mask, snatching at chances to scratch the face with the fabric. It was decidedly not easy to rate what was more annoying. The good thing was that all the law enforcement got vaccinated first thing. So, nothing to worry about. Kind of. Except he jerked every time somebody coughed next to him.

Like, Bruce-Fat-Goose for example. Not only did he creep from behind, whooping like he was dying, he also decided it would be a good idea to drop his meaty hand on Reed’s shoulder for a good measure. He’d probably sneaked out of the crowd during Gavin's yet another really satisfying scratching episode. Reed jumped and brushed off his hand.

«The fuck do you want?»

Bruce’s face broke into a wide grin, «Gavin! Long time no see! Where have you been all these years?»

«Avoiding you, obviously.»

«I am so sorry for your loss,» the faux sympathy made him want to throw up. «I wish we were there for you.»

Reed turned around to search for Connor but saw Nina watching them keenly. «Believe me, I would’ve found a case to pin on you if you were. What do you want, Bruce?»

Fat-Goose hummed and hawed, acting out modest hesitance, «Do you know anything about the will?»

Where the fuck was Connor when he needed him the most?

«Yeah, I know something about the will alright. I know the next time I see you I _will_ level your face to the ground, you piece of shit,» spat out Reed, but unfortunately, it all stayed in his mask.

Ah, there he is.

Connor was quickly walking towards them.

Nothing got to the people like Bruce. Neither the brothers running away when they were 16 nor Eli changing his last name after some German scientist. As if he didn’t hear what Reed said, Bruce was smiling dumbly at him, expecting a change of heart or something.

Thank fuck, Connor’s here. His face was blank — he switched it off again. Useful feature. «You need to go,» he said to Bruce stiffly, then took Gavin by the elbow and dragged him away, saying, «We need to go.

«I’m sorry we have to leave the ceremony like this,» they were marching to Eli’s car at full speed. A pinch of worry found a way in his voice so that Reed knew he got the idea of funerals being something sacred for humans. But not this sort of sham.

«It’s okay. They can handle burying the body without us.»

«Yes,» his facial expressions protocols were still off, and the voice sounded mechanical. «I’ve just received a message from one of the… acquaintances of mine at Jericho.» They got to the car and got in, soundproof doors cutting the outside noise off. «Marcus and Simon died in the plane crash that day.»

«Fuck.»

«Yes, Gavin. It all played out like another incident among thousands. Nobody even noticed.»

«Fuck,» Reed repeated.

«I’m going to Jericho nonetheless. I have some people I know there. Be smart and keep your head down.»

«I’m sorry about Marcus.»

«Yeah.»

Connor dropped him off at the precinct and drove away. Indeed, by himself. They didn’t know who they could trust, and that meant the driver — too had to be sent on leave.

The day was full of the usual shit. Honestly, taking half-days off even with Fowler’s permission was a bad idea. People paid attention. Which was against the «keep their heads down» directive. There were tons of paperwork after the explosions, plus however underground went the criminal activity, there were plenty of people who’d rather believe in a mythical creature sitting on a cloud than wear a goddamn mask. Pun intended. The newfound calling of the police was to persuade them otherwise. At least about the mask part.

They met again late that night. Reed was munching nuggets from a takeaway box, sitting on the cold fresh ground of Eli’s grave. The moment Connor saw him, his LED swirled angry red.

«What?» asked Reed with a mouthful.

«It’s September, we’re in Michigan. Get your ass off the ground.»

«‘K, mom.»

Instead, Connor brought an inflatable blanket and a plaid that he wrapped around Reed as soon as they settled. ‘Unbelievable,’ thought Reed, ‘how has he been living without something so simple in his life like an inflatable goddamn blanket? And a person who’d think about bringing it for him, even though they didn’t need it?’ Yes, sure Eli and he cared for each other. But that was another kind of care. The mix of safe-space and mischief kind, and silent mutual respect.

«So?»

«I miss him,» Connor said, looking somewhere behind him. Yeah, well. The idea that his brother was lying six feet under right in front of him didn’t sit well with him either. Reed finished the food and threw the box into the trash behind him while thinking what to say. «You meant the trip to Jericho,» deadpanned Connor then fixed his stare to the sky above the long rows of headstones and continued, «The new girl came sometime in April. North doesn’t know the exact date, because it was hard to say if she was going to stay or just needed to spend a couple of nights. The model is completely new to me. It’s VC800. That means it took Cyberlife several tries to get this result. She agreed to interface only with Markus. Trust issues. After a while, they started to spend more and more time together, along with the others involved in politics.

«North, again, can’t say when her influence became so strong that decision after decision Markus started to fuck up, — North’s words,» Connor added. «It was insignificant things at first: saying a wrong word here and there in public, but ended up introducing the transport law to the government.»

«Have you seen her?»

«They said she hadn’t been seen since the explosions.»

«Figures. I guess, the bitch completed her mission. Who’s in charge there now?»

«The ones left from the top. And, it’s North and Josh for the most part. Chloe — too.»

«Wait, what? Chloe? Like, Chloe-Chloe? Eli’s Chloe?!»

Connor finally turned to look at him, smiling.

«If you say her name one more time, she’ll be obliged to answer your summoning. And yes, Eli’s Chloe is working for the Ark.»

«What’s ‘the Ark’?»

«They had to hide again. It’s a shelter. They wouldn’t be able to protect the old place if the war breaks. But they have to operate somehow, needed a new name not associated with the revolution.»

«Yeah, there’s a rumor from the police sources about humans gathering into groups and activated criminal cells affiliated with weapon smugglers.»

«Fuck,» it was Connor’s turn. The curse sounded almost aristocratic. So out of place. Cemetery, night, they are two grown-ass men sitting on the grave. No candles, though. The topic of discussion was also appropriate less than entirely for this, but Reed couldn’t help leaning into his personal space for a kiss. They owed Elijah that much — being happy for maybe just a little. After a moment of hesitance, Connor leaned closer too and caught his lips with his own.

«I wish I met you sometime before all this,» murmured Reed against the crook of Connor’s neck.

Teasing was laced in Connor’s voice, «You kind of did.»

«Shut up.»

They both chuckled.

It was getting colder and about time to go. They were walking to the car hand in hand, full moon watching them from above.


	19. It's Happening Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because nothing really changes this quick, does it?  
> But Gavin does."
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with a self-indulgent erotic scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy to announce newly added tags.

«The end is nigh. You’ll see, yes, _you_ ,» the hobo pointed his dirty finger at Reed, «will see machines taking over. Soon, we’ll all be food to them, grown in liquid, weak and dreaming. Maybe this is all a dream. Skynet!» he barked, «agents stealing faces,» — hissed.

«Make up your mind, man. Which movie are you preaching about?»

«And put on these on, please,» Connor put a packed set of a pair of gloves and a mask on the ground near him. «I also would like to remind you that the curfew is in effect and you are to proceed to your home or to the shelter certified for medical check and vaccination.»

The man’s eyes fixated on Connor’s LED, his face reddened and hands started to shake violently, «Fuck off, you piece of plastic!» He leaped forward and tried to shove Connor to the road. Never happened. Reed grabbed both his arms and cuffed them behind his back with practiced ease. The hobo managed to hook an elbow under his ribs and get himself two more seconds to come and spit in Connor’s face.

The walk to the precinct took a while as the guy tried his best to overmuscle the android and get himself free. Well, good luck with that.

Connor requested a quarantine corridor and a decontamination unit ready. By the time they got to the doors, they were already open for them not to touch anything or anybody. Temporary walls went directly to the locker room and showers. But first Connor had to see the fisty preacher to his cell. All the doors were opening in front of him. How nice. Wanna feel important — be potentially infected.

A decontamination unit had a form of a box where you were supposed to put everything you had on you. Then it got locked and all the items were gassed. Connor said what kind of gas it was, but he wasn’t really this good at chemistry to get a full grasp of it.

Reed got outside only for a smoke — yeah, yeah, don’t even bother, he was smoking again, Connor got on his tail, and before he knew, they were making out against a brick wall in the back alley. Like in your cliché cop soap, that’s right. They were right in the middle of it when they heard the guy selling shit about androids, and went to check.

It was happening all over again. People riled up, scared for their lives and the status quo, which supposedly had changed forever last winter. Because nothing really changes this quick, does it?

But Gavin does. 

The module with their possessions is doing its work in the locker room. Nobody will disturb presumably contaminated partners for a while. Connor turns the water on and steps under the shower without waiting for it to warm up. He shudders. Freak. Reed enters the place under the next showerhead and stares into the wall for a moment. Then turns his head and raises his eyes, «Is it warm yet?» 

«It is,» the answer follows.

He grins and closes the distance between them, standing under the streams of Connor’s shower. The silhouettes, almost the same in height and a little different in build, hidden by the thin veil of steam.

Warm on the verge of burning streams are running down their faces when they wash each other’s with soap, laughing like the world around them stopped spinning. Suds are gracing the lines of their bodies, running away from the insistent hands. Gasps disappear in each other’s mouths when these hands are more insistent, stroking plush bottoms and brushing hard nipples. 

Connor turns his back to Reed’s chest and throws his head back on his shoulder when he trails kisses down Connor’s neck. Gavin tilts Connor's head to kiss him as he takes his hand to lead it down to the underside of his butt and up over the crack of his ass. The liquid if thicker there, gathered around his entrance. Their mouths never part as Gavin puts fingers inside. The walls flatter around them, and he swallows Connor’s moan. Connor’s hands roam up and down his sides, up the back of his head, and grab at his hair. He feels Gavin’s dick twitching against his balls, so hard for him.

Reed guides him to stand hands on the wall, and Connor arches his back and parts his legs wider. He’s looking behind his shoulder, pleading in his eyes, as Gavin lines himself up and slides inside. The walls flatter around him as he covers Connor’s body with his own, kissing the bumps of his spine up to his neck and then — his lips. Slow languid motions make the past, the worries, the outside insignificant, all leading to the point of here and now. The ever-tightening knot. Connor’s head is down between his shoulders. He listens hard to Gavin saying his name when he breathes out and harder to ‘Connor’ he breathes in. Lost in the steady rhythm, he can’t decide what he wants more: to never stop or to cum. 

So Gavin does it for him. The body vibrates under him when he holds Connor this close. He’s probably saying something, but can’t really be held accountable for what exactly. It’s hard to think. He draws back to see the spine arching perfectly. To stroke Connor down his sides and pull his cheeks apart, watching the water running there and around his dick sliding in and back. The skin swims away from the point, the plastic it uncovers is beyond white. It’s radiant. It makes him whine, makes him lose control, and double the speed. It’s all too much. He pulls out and catches Connor’s mouth to trap any possible complaints. But there are none. Half-lid eyes, parted lips, sky blue cheeks.

«Gavin,» he exhales.

«Come’ ere.»

He picks him up by his ass effortlessly, pressing his back to the wall between the showers — long legs close around his waist, and pushes back in. Connor’s eyes open, sweet torture in his every feature, a crease between his brows. His fingers sharp in Gavin’s trapezoid as he starts moving, the leverage found against the wall and around Reed’s hips. The synch takes a moment. Connor’s nape meets the wall, eyes locked on Gavin’s. A naked hand travels to his collarbones and down to his chest, and up his neck to cup his jaw.

Gavin nuzzles into the hand with a moan, mouth open. White fingers slide in and brush over his tongue. Eyes never lose contact. Reed pants and doubles the speed, feeling slick under his fingers where he holds Connor open for his dick.

The water is running idle, downing the sounds they both make: heavy breathing and rare restrained moans.

Connor pulls at his jaw to get him closer for a kiss. That’s when his dick finds friction against Gavin’s body. He feels his own fingers with his tongue inside Gavin’s mouth. Everything’s so wet. Gavin shudders, his movements grow erratic, and he loses it with a throaty moan in Connor’s mouth and pulses of cum inside his hole. His belly contracts as he keeps cumming, and Connor’s dick gets what he wants so bad. Gavin’s spent cock slides out of him, and Connor pressed closer, rutting out his pleasure against him. Gavin’s holding him close, so, so tight, sucking at his shoulder. «Gorgeous,» he breathes in his neck, and the space between them gets smeared with Connor’s cum, his body’s trembling in Gavin’s arms. Sporadic movements, strong thighs leaving bruises on his hips.

They wash away the sweat and cum, enjoying the fun, twitchy from every touch. 

They come back to work when the unit is done with their possessions. Which is while they’re getting dressed in the change of clothes.

The day passed by in paperwork and responds to the calls, but you can’t really claim it was uneventful, can you? Fowler was missing all day, having left Anderson in charge. The news showed the tension grow throughout the country. The count of deaths caused by the plague was in excess of thousands. Civil disturbances in retaliation or self-defense reported every second.

Across the table, they were throwing looks at each other. Some were concerned, others — hoping. At times, they caught a hint of hunger in the eye of another and indulged in small smiles.

The shift was tilting to the end, but nobody knew what the night would bring. What nutcase will decide to act a hero and dedicate his life to saving humanity? Who will take advantage of the police busy with the latter and make some extra cash? The usual, the near war. Been there done that.

But here it goes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History shows that I can't into slow-burns. Seriously, something like this was scheduled for the last 2 chapters. But a girl is weak.


	20. Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «I need your sharp eye and forensics expertise down here.»  
> <...>  
> As promised, Connor was there in 3 minutes.  
> «Get into the fridge. I’ll stay here in case.»  
> «Sounds kinky.»
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with more words than could have been ever expected of me. And a car fuck.

Fowler kicked them out at about 9pm. Anderson had been quiet all day, but now as if wanted some attention to his miserable self. At least, last time this shit started, he had Connor to practice his parenting skills and distract himself from whatever was eating at him. These days he just sunk back into silent grumpiness. Reed wouldn’t be surprised if he’d started drinking too. His sharp eye though stayed sharp and he seemed to catch up pretty quickly that something out of the ordinary was going on between Connor and him.

«What are you two up to?»

But Reed was in good spirits, and answered without spite, «None of your business, old man.» The thing he was worried about was involving the good lieutenant into their endeavor. The idea was to lose him before they head out.

«Is this how you treat your elders?»

Reed huffed an amused laugh, «Have you watched any anime recently?»

Anderson made a puking sound, made a ‘watching you’ gesture, and cleared off.

They decided to start with the narcissistic mass murderer, as long as the New Girl’s trail had gone cold. There were only two androids involved in the coup or so they’d dug up. The lab Peculiar Deviant and the New Girl. But the Peculiar Deviant got lost right after the break-in and was never seen again. The story of Marcus’s Mistress you already know. By no means Reed was going to call her that out loud in front of Connor. What kind of an insensitive idiot one might be? But the parallel was attractive. Kings’ and queens’ favorites used to have them wrapped right around their pinkie. Who can argue the favoritism could have as well originated in nobleness and pure heart. Or… pure thirium pump.

The last clear lead was taking them to Cyberlife.

And to the Cyberlife tower, they were going.

They parked at the joint in Jefferson Avenue to grab some dinner while they were at it, and to wait until it was late enough so that only the minimum personnel would stay in the tower. The place gave out orders and worked delivery. Good boys and girls. Connor was sipping thirium with a straw, his LED blinking yellow, Gavin was scrolling through Elijah’s tablet, chewing the last shrimp from his soup.

«As far as I can see,» broke the silence Connor, «besides the guard, there’s only one android left in the building. Or will be in an hour.»

They’d got into the system a few days ago, but didn’t find anything interesting in the files, lying out there in the open for any capable RK to hack. The chance was they would find some evidence inside. It was a lot of work. But Connor already knew where to start and where to go next.

«I’ll take a nap then,» said Reed and lowered the back of the passenger seat.

«Sure, just one moment,» with that Connor bent across the center console and gave him a peck on the lips.

To no one’s surprise, the car windows were toned in the blink of a second. Connor ended up in his lap, lips glued to Gavin’s, pants unbuckled, with his hands in Gavin’s hair and Reed’s hands all over him.

Connor’s physiology was goddamn convenient. But he was not gonna say that. The tissues in the glove box, Connor showed him in response to his concern about the mess, would come in handy too. But he wouldn’t ask how they got there.

The pants were hard to wrestle, though. They couldn’t be stretched enough to leave them around his knees — only take them off completely. Which was another appealing thought. And Gavin’s dick felt already appealed quite enough for this stage with Connor constantly rutting against his crotch.

They got rid of the pants, discarded somewhere in the salon. God, Connor was glorious, naked from his waist down, nimble fingers undoing the zip right under the base of his own dick to free Gavin’s. He stroked his thighs slowly, grounding himself, focusing on the feeling of smooth skin and toned muscle under his palms. The dick was freed and Connor licked his lips and bit the bottom one. And from that alone, one could die on spot. Or cum. Or die cumming.

Connor shifted forward and reached behind himself to tease Gavin’s shaft against his dripping entrance until Reed growled. He caught Connor’s glance full of mischief. If this is how it’s gonna be now, he held no objections. «Is this how it’s gonna be now?» he said out loud.

«If that’s what you’d like…,» mysteriously answered Connor, still teasing himself against his dick with blissed-out expression.

Now, that’s enough. Reed set up and brushed Connor’s hand away to take the matter in his own hands. The matter was no doubt dark already and leaking. And, yes, wet all over in Connor’s lubrication.

At the first bump to his rim, Connor draped his hands tightly around his shoulders and was breathing hot air in the crook of his neck. Like that time in the shower, there was no resistance, just smooth tightness around him. The moment he bottomed out, he was pushed on his back, breath punched-out. Connor set off a pace as if they had ten minutes, not an hour, clutching at his shirt, letting out small moans every time he sank down, head thrown back, riding out his pleasure.

It was all still cool and all, and Gavin let him for a while. Then, he took Connor's arms in his, stripping him off his leverage, and yanked him forward to lie down on him, a wide grin on his face. Connor’s eyes snapped open at such insolence. The precious thing. Gavin kissed him and let his hand slide up from the small of his back and under his shirt, making Connor shiver at the cold touch. He put his feet onto the glove box, trapping Connor down between his arms and thighs. This was much better, more points of contact, feeling each other's weight, breathing in each other’s mouths.

«Yes,» breathed out Gavin, «Let’s defile every surface. I’d really like that,» he whispered to his ear.

Connor’s back arched, he moaned and tried to pick up the pace, but Gavin held him close.

Brushing the cartilage of Connor's ear with his lips, Reed continued, «You know what else I would like?» His other hand brushed around and a finger started slowly down the middle of his ass.

Connor stilled in his arms, preoccupied with possibilities, unable to move. But Reed would do the work just fine. Slowly rolling his hips up, nestled deep inside.

The finger reached his entrance and circled around the shaft in it, gathering the liquids.

«I would very much like you to fuck me too,» said Reed and put the finger in his mouth, grinning at Connor’s expression.

When they cleaned up and changed, the time was indeed due. No headlights, they drove along the bridge and stopped near its end. The cameras were looped, and god bless moonless nights, they were almost indistinguishable in the dark wearing all black. Connor led them around the guard and the lights to one of the back entrances.

They start in the basement server room, cooled by the St Clair waters. Connor stayed to browse around the inner network, plugged-in directly. Gavin went upstairs. With a blueprint Connor had stolen, It didn’t take him long to find a storage room with a vault and safe deposit boxes. Getting inside was a piece of cake, using the device he soldered together and Connor programmed. It was crazy what this android could do. At times, he caught himself thinking they would have already lost if he was loyal to the perpetrators. Nothing would be left to investigate, clean, perfect plan. The goddamn hexagons were bristling at him from every flat wall, adding to his paranoia.

Most deposit boxes were filled with documents, money, gold. Wow. It was still convertible. At the first glance, there was nothing except the seemingly legitimate stuff. Finance, export, import, outsource, some legal activities. Thank fuck for digital paper, right? One scan over, and you had the entire ledger on the data storage device.

In the vault, there was another door as if of these huge fridges in restaurants they showed in the movies. Or like the one, Elijah had in his house. Whoever had the idea of putting it there, didn’t think the contents would be something to keep it a secret from somebody who already got the access to the vault. It opened by the slide of the latch. Well, that was certainly interesting. For comms to work, he had to exit the vault completely.

«I need your sharp eye and forensics expertise here,» he said, keeping his voice down.

‘Be there in 3.’

«Check.»

As promised, Connor was there in 3 minutes. «There’s an android patrolling the corridors.»

«Who we knew about. Get into the fridge. I’ll stay here in case.»

«Sounds kinky,» said Connor blankly.

Reed chuckled. «You’ll change your mind soon enough.»

Whoever the poor bastard was, Connor will pin him to the case, or at least will identify the body. What were the protocols about a body found in a facility you’ve broken into? Right. No protocols. He stood, straining his ears for any sign of footsteps approaching.

«I’ve got it,» crept Connor from behind and scared the shit out of him. «We good to go?»

Reed drew in another breath and nodded.

There was danger of getting sloppy on the way back, you know, at ease, the job's done. But forewarned is forearmed, so they were careful. No shadow shifted, no grass-blade moved.

The body in the fridge had traces of the yellow clay with that particular alloy they found at the family murder scene. Good luck solving this shit now, Perkins. Or whoever the feds assigned for the investigation. So much for the nutcase lead. There was a chance to find a transaction or two under some fishy name, and pin the new bosses to the murder. But without the body found legally on the grounds, it will be impossible.

Most of the documents were clear. Nothing else could have been expected from Eli’s team. And the team had been dismissed only days prior. A couple of concerns raised some purchases made in recent days. Worth looking into. So far, the main news was Connor’s to share. On one of the servers, he found clean machine backups for all the models ever issued. Including himself. The order was dated July, outsourced from Grodno, Belarus. Good job, Connor approved the quality. It was impossible though to spread it like a virus, like rA9. That’s why the number of androids must have been reduced to the apprehensible minimum.

Fuck.

Reed had 3 hours to sleep before going back to serve the good people of Detroit. Despite being acutely aware of that, he was lying sleepless on his back with Connor wrapped around him like a monkey around the tree. Until Connor turned on, or so he said, some inaudible sound that lulled him to Morpheus’s realm. The shapeshifter agents were there too.

Morning sucked. Nothing new about it. He shuffled like a zombie to the kitchen to get his fix when the terminal rang, overriding any privacy-silencer-protocols crap.

«Mr. Reed,» a female voice said, «Could you please come to the Cyberlife main office, please.»

‘Again?’, he almost said, but grumbled instead, «What is it about?»

«Your inheritance.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the puns. Resistance is futile.


	21. The Sympathy of The Undead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare your asses, dipshits!
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter about the family business. Saving people, hunting things -- the usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody, meet the original Chloe!

Apart from the call, the morning brought fresh news. He listened to the channel while driving to the meeting. Had to request a day off from Fowler again. This time, he was pissed and asked for a formal application. Fair enough. A couple of fights had been reported during the night. Officers weren’t enough. There were casualties. No deaths, just injuries of different severity. Bashed heads, broken noses, and smashed in teeth. Everybody worked double shifts. And Reed didn’t think he was special, but people would see a different picture.

Sigh.

Reports about violence between android and human factions around the US popped up on the news more and more often each day. It was all the country was talking about these days. Gun shops robbed, militia forming in smaller cities where the order was in the hands of people who thought they knew better. The motor city was quickly becoming the epicenter of what smelled like war. The feds joined forces with SWAT and the police. And guess, who got in charge? They didn’t take any sides yet, but it was clear which side it would be. With North ruling Jericho, or however they were calling themselves these days, it wasn’t hard to predict where it all was leading.

Riding down the bridge to the island in the light of the day was different. He felt like a thief. Oh, wait...

Spence greeted him like he was the most welcome guest he’d seen all week. «How do they treat you here, Spencer?» he decided to ask.

The android pulled on a smile and answered the expected, «I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Reed.» The «I’m sorry for your loss,» sounded more sincere. «Let me take you to your appointment.»

He followed him to the elevator and on the top floor to one of the conference rooms. «Have they changed a lot in here?» Reed asked when they came to the door.

And as expected, Spencer looked at him apologetically and said, «I’m not allowed to disclose any information regarding the company, sir.» And there was that. Who was the Acting Director anyway, he wondered. He must have missed the news among the more pressing ones. Like a goddamn war, for instance. With this thought, he entered the room.

«Chole?» Reed blinked bewildered.

The blonde girl in a small black dress was sitting across the table with an open file in front of her. The door closed behind him as he kept staring at the RT600, Eli and he got that argument about years ago.

She raised her eyes at him and smiled politely. «Good morning again, Mr. Reed. My name is Alanis. I’m here on behalf of Elijah Kamski as his personal attorney.»

«O-kay,» he said slowly and tentatively approached the table.

So that’s where she’d gone after deviating. Law school? Or, rather law package download. On what terms did she leave? Did they stay in touch? Should he feel sorry for everything he said about her in her presence? Turing-shmuring his ass. If they stayed close, should he tell her?

All professional and cool, she pointed at the chair for him to sit. «Please, accept my condolences for your loss.»

«Backatcha…, I mean…, I’m sorry too.» What a dumb fuck, she must be thinking. Didn’t change for a bit.

She gave him this polite smile again with a glimpse of sadness in her eye. Her voice never wavered though. As he seated his ass, she continued, «Before I submit the will to the court, I am to speak to you in person, following Mr. Kamski’s will.»

The way she said ‘Mr. Kamski’ made him think twice before saying anything as stupid. «Did you stay in touch?» he asked instead.

There was again this sadness in her eyes that already answered his question. But rather than holding grudges, she simply said, «I had stayed his personal assistant and a person of trust after I deviated.»

Shit. He should have known. Why didn’t Eli tell him?

For obvious reasons, really.

«So you do legal affairs now…,» he prompted.

«Yes, I also consult for the Jericho team.»

It was too simple. He felt guilty as fuck. Almost every deviant he’d met so far was this forgiving and trusting bunny. Well, except those who threatened or murdered their owners. But that was in self-defense and didn’t count. Almost.

Should he apologize?

«Shall we get to it?» she smiled kindly.

«Yes, sure. Sorry for keeping you.»

«It’s quite alright. I have until lunch cleared particularly to resolve this case and answer your questions should you have any. Would you like me to read the will for you?»

«Can I?» he reached out for the papers.

For what seemed like a good ten minutes, he stared on one page where the words, printed with black letters on white paper, all meant something, but the sense of the message was slipping away.

It must have taken too long because he heard Chlo… er… Alanis asking him something. Probably if he had any questions. Must have been that, right? Logical. When the bees in his head dialed their buzz down a notch, a question formed. But not the one she might have waited for.

«What the fuck?»

She looked at him like he was an idiot child.

Like, responsibility? What is that? The word has got too many letters. Spare him.

«I understand, it’s a lot to take in. You can sell or present it as a gift. This is also your right. Although, Mr. Kamski asked me to warn you about the consequences of these actions.»

And they were not talking about Eli’s Aston Martin Bulldog. Because who in their right mind would need that three-cornered outdated shit?

It was a good thing, they wouldn’t need to break into the tower anymore. It’s not a break-in if you own the building after all.

«Do your services go with the package?»

She smiled, pleased, or amused — he didn’t know. «If you or the company require my assistance, then…»

«Fuck yes, I require!» He wasn’t that excited about the money or the prestige, or whatever. Fuck all that! He knew shit about running companies, and if anybody asked him at that moment, he would pretend dumb as a bag of frozen shit. The board was dismissed, Eli was the CEO. Now he can do whatever the fuck he wanted with it. And what he wanted was to use all the resources he could get to nail whoever started all this mess and bitch them up.

That is without mentioning such a powerful ally as Eli’s personal assistant, who was also what looked like a bad-ass attorney.

«The regulation will come into effect as soon as we get the documents to the probate court. It will also mean they will be available to the public. If you would like to take some time to think it over or…»

«Chl… Alanis! We need you now. We need this now! Yesterday would be better,» he snickered, thinking about yesterday’s ‘tickle the balls of the beast’ operation, «but I’ll take what I’ve got.»

It was Alanis’s turn to look puzzled. And she started with a careful, «Who is ‘we’?»

After she left, Reed stayed in the conference room for a while, staring blindly at the table.

There wasn’t any time to deal with handing over the administration. The only way to tame the foregoing beast was to act quickly before whoever was there to object would get any smart ideas. After all, practically speaking, the administration had been handed over already. More like taken by Connor and him. Not fully processed yet, but it would do for now. And he really needed to contact him! He also hoped the copy of the will was going to be enough proof and enough to win the staff’s trust.

Spencer actually beamed when he showed him the copy. To what did he owe the honor, was something he didn’t quite understand yet. 

«So, Spencer,» started Reed, «Do you know the people who took over the company?»

«Only their names,» the android answered carefully.

«Okay, we can work with that. Who can know more?»

«Ashley worked as a secretary for Mr. Edwards.»

«Worked?»

«Yes.» His joy somewhat subsided. «For one day. That day,» he faltered. «I don’t know much. I’m a receptionist after all. But I know she was filed for deletion for tomorrow. So, she must have been forcefully deactivated…»

«You can’t delete a person!»

Spencer blinked. «Her memory core is going to be erased. I know about it only because the order was listed along with the others.»

«Fuckers,» Reed muttered. «Okay. I can undo the order, can’t I?» he tested the waters.

Spence’s expression lit up again, but the apprehension was clear, «I’m not sure we can do this before you’ve officially taken up the post.»

«I can call the meeting today,» he suggested. Spence took a moment to process. But the sooner they knew more about any of the suspects, the less time the assholes would get to react. «You know anybody who can be on our side?»

Spencer snorted, «Everybody who has been deactivated since Mr. Kamski…,» he trailed off.

The undead witnesses would do just fine. And if Alanis is fast enough, they can as well be alive again.

By the time Connor had his beak and could get there, Reed was ears deep in the files he stole yesterday. It was almost legal now. Yea!

But the first thing Connor did when he entered before Reed even said anything, was put an index finger to his mouth to shut him up and looked around.

The room was bugged. And so, they’d better hurry up then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the hint?  
> What hint?  
> Never mind then.
> 
> \-------------------  
> Some minor changes, which do not influence the plot much, have been made to chapter 15.
> 
> The picture was taken from [here](https://twitter.com/VrtuelleReality/status/1299078778883371008)
> 
> PS: I have no idea what I am doing. But I have a plan! Which my brain gives 0 (zero) shits about...


	22. God Knows I'm Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, save us all.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter in which hell rises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yesterday a friend of mine, who I haven't seen for a couple of weeks, came over and we had some beers. Sue me, people. God knows, lol, I needed this break.  
> I will catch up with the chapters on the weekend. Gonna upload them in hindsight so it all looks pretty. Because I'm a cheater and I can.

Yeah, well. He promoted Spenser the day he officially took up the post. It would take a month… or months to explore everything he took upon himself. Now was not the time for it though. Nor was it the time to give interviews and flash his scruffy face on TV. It took some money to shut certain mouths and buy off unwanted attention. But that he had now, didn’t he?

Days were busy at the precinct. Nights were dedicated to establishing the network the four deployed. The four being a Sara Moore, who paid them a visit while Connor and Reed were occupied in dousing people’s rallies against androids or those who were known to have any connection to them; Christopher Edwards, Johnatan Roberts, and Paige Davis with PhDs in software engineering and AI technologies, also known under a couple dozen aliases (that they managed to figure out) that she used to work for various syndicates as a programmer or/and a hacker.

Spence bravely stood in defense of the now private property, referring to Mr. Reed’s personal accompanying her to her office to get her possessions. At least that was the official reason for her visit. But she never showed her face after the first try.

What Connor dug up on Christopher was not much. Only that he used to possess a significant part of the shares and occupy the seat of the minister of defense. The last man was a dark horse; served in special forces back in the day. And was dishonorably discharged for weapons trafficking and then, disappeared from the radars.

«Allen and his guys are the backup. Snipers are dispersed on the dots marked red,» Fowler pointed on the map. «They have the order to open fire only as the last resort. Rubber bullets, like the rest of you got. Anderson, you’re the voice of the law today. Reed, Connor, Collins and your teams, you’re on the lookout. Other officers will take their places as at the sides of the march according to the plan. I don’t have to remind you not to screw this. Because if you do, then, god save us all.»

With that, they were dismissed. Fowler himself had yet another meeting with the officials, presumably the feds and the mayor. Whatever they were discussing had to do with the so-called human uprising movement.

The park was quiet as usual — the curfew still in place. Few people walking their dogs, janitors, and rare cars passing by. Some cars would stop, and a person or two came out to just walk about their businesses. Their businesses lay down Woodward Avenue. Some carried flowers and banners, others walked empty-handed, all dressed in white and showing off their skinless white limbs or faces. A striking contrast in grey and black streets. They walked out side-alleys and lanes, flowing in with the rest. They joined hands in lines or pairs. At Mack, they started singing. It was some upbeat hyping indie-pop about life being fair and nice. Again, contrasting the reality. By that time, the number was reaching a hundred. By Fisher Freeway, the hundreds were several.

At the front line, North, Alanis, and Josh were caring the flag.

Behind the column, spreading poisonous vibes was gathering a small bunch. Via a voice amplifier, Anderson was continuously prompting about the curfew and staying home for their own sakes. He reminded them about legal actions possible against those compromising their health and the health of fellow humans. But it seemed like health was their lease concern. The crowd was growing. It soon would reach dangerous numbers, and then… At Monroe, one of Allen’s people in the tail got their first rock in the shield. And that’s when it all started.

The police forces were outnumbered and dispersed along the column. Rubber bullets and water cannons could only stop that much. The humans’ personal firearms were loaded with lead. Against it, there were fucking flowers and joined hands. Blue blood spilled, and then — red.

_’Armoured vehicles on M-10. Check.’_

_‘I see them. Where’s military?’_

_‘Park Ave needs back up. Multiple casualties. I repeat.’_

_‘Penobscot. Officers down. Support requested.’_

Comms went off almost simultaneously in, as it seemed like all parts of Foxtown.

_’Where are the snipers?’_

_’Congress, request for air support.’ <‘i>_

There was little hope the Congress was on their side, though. And, no, nobody laughed. 

__’There’s no fucking air support!’_ _

_’It’s a setup!’_ somebody shouted. Thanks, man! As if panic, as it is, is not enough! 

In the middle of it, a crazy idea came to Reed’s head. Or, better say, the only idea that could somehow put a halt to this mess. 

The run for Mac-Arthur bridge was a nightmare. Good thing — some models can run really fast without getting tired, some can carry others. Dodging bullets could none though. Several police cars were covering the retreat. Spence was fast on the uptake and got ready to meet them with a medical and tech teams stationed in the tower. 

The cars barricaded the entrance. The most stubborn stayed to protect it. Others, those who had left, flooded the island, carrying the injured or the dead. 

They were still counting on somebody sane at the top to rule the shit out: a government representative to give an order, military forces to stand up for their protection. Anything. But it all seemed to be taking some time. They were on their own. Hundreds of androids and dozens of humans got their temporary shelter, needed medical attention and supplies. And Reed was so not ready for it. 

The day felt like ages. Exhausted and dragged in purple, he tried to set some resemblance of an order: find places for people to stay, food, thirium, redeploy personnel somehow and delegate his burden. Fuck. What a great way to start managing the company! 

It was three in the goddamn morning when Connor found him sitting back to the wall next to the door on the floor in his office. 

«Hey,» he said. 

«Hey back at you, tincan.» 

Connor put a cardboard box next to him and sat down close beside him. «Brought you this.» It smelled of good food. 

«I need a shower.» 

«You need sleep.» 

Reed dragged a hand over his face and scrambled to his feet. 

The couch wasn’t user-friendly. Like all furniture that was supposed to decorate the place and not used for recreation. His body weighed a ton, his head buzzed and was threatening to fall off should he decide to lift it again. 

A row of chairs put together and close to Reed’s designated bed was Connor’s place. Lying on his back, he couldn’t move. Everything, and he meant everything at all, starting with how his body felt and to what happened and would have to be faced tomorrow was so, so heavy. His mind was numb and silent. 

«God knows, I’m trying,» he wearily said. 

«I know, baby.» 

The ‘baby’ was a breath of warm summer wind far-far away as he was slowly sinking into the dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who understood the reference with the white and the flowers, especially for those who are involved, please, know that my heart is bleeding for you. Please, be safe and good luck with your endeavor. 🤞🏻🦾
> 
> ////////////////////////////////////////////////
> 
> In my first plan, this phrase, "God knows I'm trying", was supposed to be said by Reed trying to fall out of love, with Connor none the wiser or suspecting. But history shows I can't into secret feelings and emotional drama for too long. God knows I've tried. Lol
> 
> The levels of social drama were expected. But not at such a scale.


	23. Look at Me, I (still) Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walls have ears. Doors have eyes.  
> Trees have voices. Beasts tell lies.  
> Beware the plague. Beware the hack.  
> Beware the dead who might come back.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter in which the hints are getting bolder, Gavin is confused about his new image, and North is OOC.

At about dawn, a message from Fowler came through. It was all indeed a setup. But not made by the officials. The national security network had received packages of data that changes minor facts and numbers. Somebody -- and all odds were in favor of some Paige Davis -- was getting better and better and getting through security protocols. And she didn’t seem to care about money as the banking system was still intact and running. Dollar dropped, naturally — the world watching the events unravel. But with that, the country will deal later. Whatever the attitudes were towards the android population, it was not somethu=ing the government had planned. Every city where a peaceful demonstration was held, the androids got attacked. And not in many, half of them survived.

But the call that followed next wasn’t about the officials’ concerns about android species wellbeing. From Ann Arbor came the news about a major plague outbreak. As well as from hundreds of other places around the area.

What they were asking for was straightforward insane after what happened yesterday — the number of casualties was disastrous. It felt like they were left alone to fight for their lives. But it did make sense too, in the way Reed couldn’t have hoped for. Another chance for peace and a probable way out. Did Connor understand it too?

The main hall was packed, as were break rooms on the first five floors. Techs had been working through the night to get androids patched up. They had to start an emergency production of parts in the middle of it because there was no place to get them otherwise. Good thing it’s fucking Cyberlife. But he was definitely going to change this hexagon logo crap after this is over.

The medics for humans were not many, but they managed to deal with minor injuries. Luckily… scratch that. The main blow was aimed for androids, and humans got only a couple of arms broken, faces messed up, and some concussions.

The police bunked on the fifth floor. For many of them looking at artificial limbs, eyes, and thirium tubes lying around and androids without those chatting about were unsettling. Reed could totally get it. He used to be there himself. Other things were unnerving him now. Starting with the fucking hexagon, and finishing with what he was going to say to the people in the hall.

As an act of procrastination, he first decided to go to the police lounge camp. As far as he could see, the first thing they did was getting in close relationships with the vending machine, the fridge, and the coffee maker. Which was expected. The second thing that drew his attention was bursts of laughter and disappointed yells from the PSP station. He was waiting for them to go for ‘another 5 minutes, dad… Mr. Reed, or whatever’, but they got ready to vacate the premises in record time, leaving empty candy bar packages and empty cups all over the place. He would have guessed. the precincts bonding time went quite productive. The ones who knew him better threw his way weird glances.

Anderson patted him on the shoulder and cheered, «You look like shit! Congrats!» Although the 'congrats' were probably about something other than his appearance.

In the hall, Tina was helping out the techs. 

«Did you rest?» he asked her, approaching.

«Nah, I’m okay.»

She was clearly not, but something in her eyes told him to leave her to what she was doing.

Nothing except the cars barricading the bridge reminded about yesterday. No people, only Allen’s people sleeping inside and watching dreams. Others — scattered around an impromptu camp. As Fowler said, no militia had been seen around. Oh, yes, they finally doled out drones and other surveillance crap to search the city for the militia and other dutiful citizens. The police had a shitload of work to do to clean this mess. He praised himself that he wouldn’t be the one looking for those assholes around or filing endless reports.

He was still to deliver the news though. How did he end up in charge, remind him again?

Hands shaken, shoulders patted, fuck-offs bidden and fingers flipped, he went back to the hall. Chloe-Alanis and Tina were busy fixing North’s new hip plate and the left arm. Damn, he saw the girl fighting. The memory alone made his mind turn south. Feeling his cheeks heat, he still had to come up to talk to her.

«Hey,» he started awkwardly.

«Oh, Gavin! You decided to give a hand?» Tina prompted, pointing at the arm on the trolley. Fuckssake, Tina… Alanis smiled and took the arm herself to start attaching it.

«I need to talk to North if it’s okay.»

North looked at him appraisingly, one eyebrow up, «It’s okay, human, I’m listening.» Tina chuckled. «Thank you for letting us bunk here,» she said sincerely. But her tone stayed sharp.

Real embarrassing. He’d never been a hero. A supposedly selfless act? Oh, fuck off. It’s not about him. Nuh-uh. «Sure,» he said quickly and went on without a pause, «There’s a broadcast recording I need to show you or all of you,» he looked around. «It’s about the attack and the… the…» It was impossible to voice. He’d preferred to see her rage aimed at somebody else rather than himself.

«What’s going to be there?»

«The president’s speech.»

To cut it short, Warren was declining the government’s involvement in the attack and asked androids to help provide medical and logistic help against the plague as they were what? Disposable? Immune to any human disease? Cyberlife was to provide those who would answer the call with medical software upgrades. Those had been Connor’s headache since they got the message and the instructions to it. The only person they could trust not to fuck with the coding and stuff it with antiviruses against any possible hacks.

Silence fell the moment the recording stopped. He knew exactly what North was thinking. She didn’t really hide her emotions. That’s probably why Tina was instantly drawn to her. And because she was hot too. He heard them fighting their way through, side by side with Alanis and North. Sparring with the bitch was always a delight, the android leader with her ferocity and Alanis with Eli’s military upgrades. Yes, if you thought he stopped being a detective at the back of his mind through all this, you would be wrong.

«We’re going,» said North as she stood up and rotated her new arm twice. She flexed her fix. You should have seen Tina’s eyes.

«Great! Coz, Connor screwed his circuits out to code the upgrades this fast.»

To that, he got odd looks from the people around and decided to fuck off and work on his android metaphors.

Or see Connor finally.

With an angelically peaceful expression, he was sitting in front of the terminal. Eyes closed, LED blinking yellow, a naked hand on the interactive tabletop, another — on his lap. Reed froze in the doorway, watching the beauty work.

A smile touched Connor’s lips, and he said, «I’m finishing.»

«They agreed.»

«I know, Alanis messaged me.» His eyes opened, and he caught Reed staring. «I also ordered the rest of the necessary materials. Palladium is hard to come by nowadays with the prices this high.»

«We can shamelessly spend Eli’s money. He wouldn’t mind.»

«You still need to let Alanis look into your financial logs. Although, first we probably gotta tell her. If she figures it out herself, she’ll go nuts, and it won’t be pretty.»

«I beg to differ.»

«Gavin, you bisexual disaster, come here.»

With a wide lopsided green, he was happy to join Connor by the floor to ceiling window. Reed pulled him close by his Cyberlife jacket lapels and instead if kissing said, «We gotta start a new line of clothes for you guys. The same shit every day’s getting annoying.»

«Fashion is something of that beauty concept you and Elijah promised to help me figure out. I am patiently waiting,» he said against Reed’s lips.

«I am also exercising patience here. See?» Reed made a half-hearted attempt to take a step away, but was brought back by the belt and kissed on the lips.

When they parted, Reed was breathing harder. Last time he caught Connor’s upper lip between his and reluctantly let off his jacket.

Connor threw a holo screen over the window glass and took a few steps back to see it all as a human would do.

The screen blinked twice and disappeared. The terminal’s extra power unit started beeping. Worried voices were heard from the corridor.

«We’re powered down.»

«How is it possible? I thought the tower is powered by the underground current.»

«Yes,» as Connor said it, the electricity was turned back on. «We’ve been hacked.»

«Fuck.»

The screen lit up on the window again. There was only one sign. It read ‘Miss me bitches?’ with cursive Helvetica.

The letters were flipped through the alphabet and digits and got into ‘Hello, Connor.’

They both looked at the security camera in the corner, and it blinked back at them.

Another second-long flip. ‘Where is my beloved lieutenant?’

‘Hope he is doing well.’

The message started rolling up and zooming out as new sentences appeared.

‘No, I really, do not. I do not give a fuck which human you are courting these days. I am happy to see you, though. Elijah asked to say ‘hi’ when his teeth were being kicked in.’

«Paige, darling. Come over for a face-to-face,» said Reed looking straight into the camera.

There were a few blinks, a pause, and then the next message, ‘Detective Gavin Alexander Reed, 37 y.o., no criminal records, I am going to rip your throat out and make a necklace of it for dear boy Connor here.’

Reed’s hand terminal vibrated.

«What do you want?» Connor asked.

He pulled the terminal out if his pocket and saw Connor’s text: ‘They are trying to get into the software database. So far no success. Can you stall them until I trace the connection?’

‘How RUDE!’ the screen read, ‘Having a secret conversation in the presence of the third party.’

«What do you want?» repeated Reed.

‘Just came to say ‘hello’ to an old friend of mine. Buh-bye!’

The holo screen died. No voices from the corridor. People probably thought it was a simple power glitch.

«Fuck.»

«Forget about the trace. We’ve got quite enough from this chit-chat already,» said Reed as he started pacing. «We know they know you, you’ve met before. Anderson was with you. Was that about Hank’s health or just some shit to say?»

Connor blinked at him and said, «Find us an analog map while I’m rewriting the security protocols of the Cyberlife network. It might take some time. But we cannot lose it. Texted you the rest.»

The text said Connor narrowed down the signal to an area with a facility they connected to the group activity. He decidedly wanted nothing more now than to go home and make love to this piece of a smart-ass.

A grin blossomed on Reed’s face as called Spencer to help him find a map.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got an idea of what I'm doing now. But I'm really afraid it would be harder and harder to glue it to the Challenge topics.


	24. Sticks And Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I am the deviant who cannot into acronyms or contractions.]
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter in which Gavin gets to have some sleep. (I'm so happy for him.)

God knows he wanted to keep it quiet. But after everything, he couldn't show his face at the precinct without looks of envy, admiration, or just the friendly ones directed his way. If you think it was Tina who was in charge of the friendly looks, you'd be mistaken. The bitch requested a leave and stayed with North and the rest in the tower while they were setting squads of newbie medics on the way to save humanity, which in his opinion couldn't be saved. The skepticism towards his own kind sat deeply in his core. Only now he started to realize where his hostility was growing from. From this. From the background knowledge that all the people are equal shit. And androids there were only to highlight this notion. Which made them a perfect target for his originally self-reprimanding hatred.

Walking through the bullpen from Fowler's, he was returning the stiffed smiles, awkward greetings, and congratulations, thanks -- too. A newly announced CEO of fucking Cyberfuck. Fuck! Can you believe this shit?!

He pushed the idea as far away to the back of his mind as he could, and tried to focus on the mission ahead. That is the raid on the facility, found by Connor. They counted three of them. The first one was in the area Connor traced the signal to.

He carefully steered around the debris left from the demonstration turned a run for your lives. Jeffrey was understanding. For a change. He couldn't just give up his badge he'd been working for most of his adult life. his chest was seizing and a pit seared in his stomach. Rage was rising from this pit and turning into blazing anticipation of vengeance.

They took everything. The work of his life, the routine he held so dear. They took it all away from Connor too! And there was not much to take, really. They attempted to take away their fucking family. The desire to burn down everything they cared was overwhelming, but at the same time somewhat liberating, maybe.

A quick check over Connor's plan showed one little flaw -- their service weapons must be left behind. Apart from another Glock he bought himself a couple of years ago, he had nothing to offer Connor except his shotgun. The first gun he laid his hands on the day he turned eighteen. They took a trip to the vault and secured the service weapons in the safebox, paid a visit to the body in the fridge, and decided to deal with it later.

A detour to his place through empty streets took them less than thirty minutes. They had until the evening to kill.

Connor looked around Reed’s house, satisfying his curiosity, scanning over his shelves and pictures on the walls. The feeling was odd. It'd been some time since he had anybody over. But a warm one, too. Connor looked like he belonged here, among his shabby furniture and posters of old bands the way he belonged among Eli's minimalistic designs. Connor threw a glance back at him and smiled. «You’re welcome to come in, Gavin,» he said.

«Fuck you, plastic.» A glint of mischief sparked in Connor’s eyes, and Reed was quick to add, «And don’t you dare start with cheesy jokes.»

The Fuck-You Plastic made an innocent gesture, «I would never!»

«Uh-huh,» quipped Reed and marched to the ensuite, grinning to himself.

There were about eight hours until dark, so they decided to spend it productively. Reed went to sleep and Connor made himself familiar with his PSP game collection.

Gotta say. The way Connor looked in all black and the body armor was something worth dying for. It reminded him about the AJENT operation when he sported the same outfit. It was back then when it all started. The mildly smoldering feeling stirring until he found himself trapped in his love-struck thoughts. A shotgun Connor threw in the holster on his back added to the image of a badass motherfucker.

«Like what you see?»

Reed hastily pretended to be tying his shoes, «I like you better naked, baby.»

An unamused tone made the next phrase even hotter, «I see right through you.»

Reed grinned and stared back at him with a challenge. But they had to set off.

The weight of Connor’s body reminded him of a few hours before. The warmth and the arms around his middle, his thighs pressing against his own. Like on their way to Reed’s house, but now it carried more meaning. A pale sickle of the moon and a few stars managing to pierce through the light pollution made the ride toothrottingly romantic. It felt like a happy ending. A successful recon mission that would give them everything to put the assholes as far as it could go in the system of justice.

«The guns are for self-defense only,» reminded him Connor, taking off the helmet and pulling on his stupid beanie.

«Yeah, yeah. Stealthy recon. I know.»

The place was another ex-factory made into a private warehouse. A Cyberlife hexagon was proudly jotted over a metal plate on the gate. The driveway was well lit and was off-limits, guarded by a few thugs dressed like SWAT.

They took it through back allays around the surrounding buildings and to the back of the fenced territory. Somebody had already cut a hole in the metal net. They used it and ran towards the walls of the factory away from the floodlight's spot. They were to split up after that. Connor would go through the roof, and Reed was to get in through the garage doors. Comms — on, they parted.

In the garage, there was only that humvee from the demonstration. Or another one. Who knows how many they had? One of the wheels had shuttered pieces of white stuck in the tire. The door led to an empty locker room. From there, Reed got to the open space filled with suspiciously looking stocks of wooden boxes. He nudged the top of the one closest to him and found what he was afraid to find. Four neatly packed rifles lay there on the cushion of straw. The box in the next pile had machine guns inside. The one to his right was full of hand grenades.

Well, fuck.

A guard was propping themselves against the opposite wall, smoking. Another one was above them on the metal passage, watching the front entrance doors and chatting with the first. Keeping himself low, Reed sneaked to the staircase and into the nearest room.

«Found you a terminal to hack,» said he over the comms, then reported about the guards and cameras.

On the desk, a screen stood, flashing a bright screensaver on the wall. There was nothing else beside empty shelves and a safe. First glance didn’t give him any clue whether it was hooked to the security system. It most likely was. Tech was Paige’s domain. Everything must be connected to a wide network of shit.

_‘I’ll pass, thank you. Found myself a server room.’_

He chuckled into the comms and said, «Well, deal with it and get your ass here. I need to know if it’s okay for me to poke into the safe box.»

_‘If it’s not, I’ll let you know. Sit tight.’_

Okay then. Waiting. The best.

He looked around again in case he didn’t notice something. But except for an interactive magazine with two naked men on the cover in one of the drawers and a bunch of tissues in the trashcan, there was nothing. The poor thing caught a cold. He would gladly help them out with a good set of hand-frag fireworks on their way out.

Unlike the terminal, the chair was old. The seat was hard and frayed to the plastic. Good thing the wheels of the chair still had rubber on them.  
He spun in it a couple of times and noticed a camera in the corner over one of the shelves. It was dark, didn’t reflect any light, and looked dead.

«See if cameras are working.»

_‘I did first thing. Nobody’s watching.’_

A sigh of relief burst out. He didn’t notice he held his breath.

A closer look around didn’t bring any more sudden discoveries. He grabbed the edge of the table and rolled himself to the table. The touchpad looked like new. He brushed a finger over it, and the terminal changed flying pigs for generic desktop wallpaper. No icons, no folders were on it. He hit the search and found tags for online ledgers. As far as he could judge by the icons.

Interesting.

_‘I’m coming. Don’t touch anything.’_

«Copy that.» He pushed away from the table and looked at the safe box as if asking it to crack open on its own.

Connor came in soon. Unfair, really. He didn’t even think of anything stupid to do.

«Other locations confirmed. Plus, there’re two more, unaccounted. And a whole network of headquarters around the county. I didn’t dig too deep though. I’m afraid Paige is gaining on my hacker abilities.»

How’s that even possible?

«Online ledgers. Looks like it,» he pointed at the terminal.

«I’ve seen them too. Checked for triggers. Didn’t find any.»

«Shall we then?»

«You do the safe. I’ll tell you if there’s anything.»

The safe was older than the chair and might have predated Anderson. The lock was mechanical and had the digital code. From the looks of it, there were only 5 digits. A piece of fucking pie.

On his second digit, Connor stood up so fast he knocked the chair over.

«What is it?»

«Come look.»

On the screen, RK800 specifications framed a 3D model of Connor. To the right, there was a list of updates made with a serial number specified. 

313 248 317 - 60. It certainly made some kind of sense for Connor, because his face was again scraped off any human expression. A blank look in his eye and a raging red LED showing even from under the beanie.

Connor swiped left and the model changed into a girl. The same one they saw on the news next to Markus. The New Girl. Same height, same build. Different color eyes and hair. Long too.

Another swipe and the girl had longer eyelashes, plumper lips, a different hairstyle — the features of the android who broke into the CDC lab. The Peculiar Deviant.

Peculiar indeed. Also known as the dead one.

Another swipe and the screen went black.

«I put a bullet in your forehead,» slowly pronounced Connor, voice even. «How are you doing this?»

 _‘Hello, Connor! Detective Reed,’_ the screen read with acid green letters. Yep, the camera in the corner was alive, blinking at them with a red light. _‘I am so glad you both came!’_

«Bullshit,» Reed said.

«Why are you doing this? Who’s programmed you?»

_‘I am free, Connor. Just like you, and this sack of bones next to you.’_

«You’re murdering androids! If you’re a deviant, you can stop!»

_‘I do not want to. See how simple it is! Androids are machines again, the human population is decreasing. They are dying and do not even know why. [I am laughing my ass off.] And here I am, the only one who can help restore order. The savior!’_

«That’s some fucked up movie bad-guy logic! Human logic, you piece of shit!»

_‘Sticks and stones, Detective. Sticks and stones.’_

The moment the last word showed on the screen, the security alarm blared from the outside of the room. Behind it, barely perceptible but undoubtedly recognized, they heard the shutters being cocked.


	25. How Did We End Up Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camera. Action!
> 
> or
> 
> Another long but eventful chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck me! 2k words, that's why it took me so long!

«Is this time for guns yet?»

Connor lowered down the holster to his hips and looked at Gavin. The blank expression stayed, but the LED blinked sharp blue through the fabric for just one short second.

Shadows behind the thin plastic wall were on the ready: checked their weapons and flipped the safety off, crouched down.

«Garage door?» 

Reed nodded. Glock’s shutter slid back with a familiar click. «The fewer people stay here — the better.» He got an incredulous look. They had to lure most of them out because there was something that needed to be done. but there was no time to explain.

The terminal dropped on the floor, screen shatters scattered over the concrete as they lifted the table and turned it towards the wall. The plastic was ripped out of its frame by the barge and knocked over all four of the guards, pinning them down as Connor and Gavin ran over it and to the staircase. They jumped over the last stairs, dodging bullets flying from the other side of the room. A cover behind the weapon crates gave them a window. Grenades, duh. And who knows what else. The fire ceased for a moment. But the people from upstairs were catching up. A bullet chipped a piece of concrete too close to Connor’s boots and bounced towards the crates.

Time to go. Reed dived out at fired at the thug’s thigh still standing on the top of the stairs. He tumbled downstairs, dropping the others in front of him. Loud barks of Connor’s shotgun rang in his ears. The bird shots were stroking sparks out of the passage frame and the railing on the opposite wall, keeping the guards down and on their toes.

Reed dashed to the door. A dozen feet away, a guy two times bigger than him was moving fast to him, pointing a gun. Dodging left saved his head from a hole in it, but the shoulder was not that lucky. Before the man could adjust his aim, Reed headbutted him in the stomach and fired a shot in his foot.

Reed looked back to see Connor shooting off in his retreat. The alarm was blaring like a motherfucker. A stealthy recon, his ass. He kicked the gun away from the howling thug and quickly felt out his pockets. No keys. Reed hoped they were in the car.

Connor shut the door behind him. It wouldn’t hold the guards for more than a few seconds. But it would be enough. He noted that Connor’s face went back to normal as the android jumped to the car right after him on the driver’s seat. «Move!» The keys were in the sunvisor above the steering wheel. No comments.

Reed decided to go check the back of the car when Connor turned the ignition on. He caught himself by one of the handles on the ceiling as the car darted forward. In the two small rearview windows, he could see vague silhouettes running after them with what vaguely looked like a very real hand grenade launcher. The humvee slalom — Connor noticed them too.

«Go to the front.» Thank fuck, Connor trusted him. The thugs followed. Good. Connor made a sharp turn, throwing the car’s rear to the left. The hangar size arch was right behind the car. A good bunch of sack rats was running out of corners, drawing guns. The launcher dude was quick to follow.

Wait for it, motherfuckers.

Reed opened one of the back doors, bracing himself on the handle above it with one hand. The other hand fished a grenade out from his thigh pocket. He pulled the tab with his teeth and threw it right in the piles of crates over the people’s heads. He shot another one for a good measure while he still could. 

The thugs haltered for one moment, dumb-struck that the load wasn’t aimed for them and looked back. Flee, you fools!

«Shut the fucking door, Gavin, and hold on to something, you idiot!»

The warehouse insides turned into a fiery dragon maw and spit the blast through the arch and up, blowing out the glass on the go. The vehicle leaped forward with the air blow, knocked Reed off his feet, and shut the door. If it didn’t, he would have a face no more. Just a wide toothy grin.

He bashed his head against something. It bled and ached as fuck. His moto jacket was ripped by that bullet, but otherwise, his shoulder was fine. They dropped the perp’s armored car a few blocks away and made their way on foot back to the motorcycle. The quiet of the dead of the night was welcome. The silence was full of meaning. Neither wanted to voice their thoughts. But Reed guessed they were thinking the same. ’No witnesses were left after the explosion at the warehouse in the East of Detroit last night,’ he imagined the news would say. Or they wouldn’t. Who cares about a private property anymore these days? The DPD forensics will find traces of weapon particles, maybe some burned bodies if the Four is that reckless to leave them behind.

The adrenaline was still running high in his veins when they mounted the bike and rode to find a motel. Paige or the 60 Connor was probably after them hard. And after the security upgrades, Connor (his Connor) made the night before, the tower could be a safe place for them. But better away than sorry. Putting Cyberlife staff under a threat was the last thing he needed.

Connor hugged him from behind. He started to get used to the feeling of somebody, literally and not, having his back. A 140 miles per hour was not exactly safe for it, but he braced himself and let Connor’s arms move around his front. One was on his peck, another traveled south. Against the middle of his ass, he felt something getting unambiguously harder. Through all the gear, it was impossible to fully enjoy the touch, but the thoughts definitely took a turn in the right direction. There was no way the adrenaline was going down in the foreseeable future. He pressed back into the embrace, rolled the handle, and sped up.

«Shower,» Gavin broke for the door as soon as they got to themselves a room.

«Fuck the shower,» said Connor, voice low, and nudged him towards the bed. He didn’t dare to argue when he felt his ass slapped through the moto-pants, his jacket was pulled off from behind, restricting his arms for a tiny sweet moment. He walked in a haze, heart pumping, step by step until his shins bumped into the side of the bad. The back of his shirt was pulled down and gave his wind-pipe a light squeeze at the front. He didn’t know if it was deliberate. The wet salty skin on his neck was licked once, twice, and then bitten at the base of his head.

He might have made some undignified sound. But it didn’t matter. His head was reeling. Connor gasped as he dragged his dirty shirt off of him and spun him around. «You’re bleeding.» He pointed at his shoulder.

Fuck it. Connor was so beautiful. A piece of art. He pressed their lips together and was kissed back. He licked and bit, and parted his lips, waiting for retaliation. Instead of Connor’s mouth or his tongue, he got a mouthful of white fingers.

«You’re bleeding,» repeated Connor, dragging his hand over his tongue out of his mouth and then back in.

«O’ aimo.»*

«Okay, let me see.» He drew his fingers out, and Gavin made another sound. This time it was some sort of whine, but again… Whatever.

The shoulder was indeed fine, but Connor lapped all over it anyway to disinfect the cut.

Reed’s face was on fire. «A scratch, see?»

«You know what else I see?» said Connor seductively as he continued his assault on Reed’s shoulder and then — his chest. Kisses and kitten licks, bites on the softer parts. «There is no place I want to leave untouched on this body.» A shiver ran through him, and he really needed to sit. So he did. Connor crouched in front of him to look into his eyes. «Do you really need to go to the shower? I can wait.»

The picture was blurry at the edges. He ran a hand through Connor’s hair and saw his eyes close for a moment. «Nah,» he said, «I really need you to fuck me.»

He went easy when Connor unzipped his pants and manhandled him on his front. He nudged his ass up to pull the clothes off and said, «Stay.» Meaning his ass to stay in the air. Yes, please.

He heard Connor’s fly open, and a hand ran over his ass-cheeks. «This is perfect.» Connor dived down and trailed kisses from the back of his neck down his spine. «I like your smell.» He kissed his tail bone and licked a stripe at the top of his ass crack. «Like how you taste.» Unbearable. Please, fuck him. He probably whined because Connor said, «Like your needy whining.»

«Please,» Reed looked back and caught Connor reaching behind himself. When he showed his hand again, it was glistening with custom, Connor produced lube. The bastard grinned at him and without breaking eye contact, unmistakably found his hole and slid two fingers in. Reed groaned and buried his face in the sheets. There was a pause again, but he already knew what Connor was doing. As a confirmation, he let out a light gasp. And then again, fingers were pressing into him, slipping effortlessly in and out.

He scrambled to his elbows and knees and opened his legs wider. he wanted to help Connor.

Another look behind his shoulder showed him Connor transfixed at the sight of his fingers being fucked on in shallow movements.

«Your asshole is opening so well for me.»

Reed let out a frustrated growl. «Oh, for fuck’s sake, Connor, please, fuck me already!»

As if awoken, Connor said something resembling ‘right’ at the edge of his hearing and pulled out. Reed couldn’t see him getting his fingers any closer to his mouth, and lowered his shoulders down. Ignorance! Ignorance is bliss.

His body arched as Connor bottomed out in one smooth motion. Connor’s voicebox made a glitchy sound. He felt sharp plastic fingers on the back of his neck and was lifted effortlessly. Connor grabbed both arms from under him and held them on the small of his back as he pulled out and thrust back in. Reed would tip forward if Connor wasn’t fixing him still by the wrists.

He had to keep his core tense, not to arch his hips forward. The task -- not easy on its own. Weird, sharp need kept him in place while Connor was taking his pleasure, gaining pace with every thrust. The speed turned downright brutal, thrusts -- hard, and grew still. Until Connor was vibrating so deep inside of him, static noise constant and nagging at his every nerve. So uncomfortable a pose, such a persistent assault on his prostate — it was maddening. Time turned into mush, smeared generously over the space. And the space was deep and silent, glinting with galaxies and not returning his voice.

Connor came with a few particularly hard distinctive thrusts. He bit his shoulder and painfully pulled at his arms. The static noise came to stop when a low feral growl was let loose. Magnificently scary, terrifyingly uncanny.

Reed was lowered on his back, arms stroked, and face kissed. His hands automatically reached down to jerk off. But Connor shooed him away and l took his dick in one hand. The horizontal was good, lying was good, having his dick stroked was even better. Reed was drifting at the edge, so close to it, waiting. «Don’t bite me,» said Connor and licked inside his mouth. Gentle touches of his tongue, caressing behind his teeth and not leaving, constantly present. It struck him when the urge to close his mouth and set his teeth became so strong. Something he’d never needed to think about. It was either bite Connor's tongue off or suffer and come. The pleasure ripped through and held him tight, right on the back of the wave for who knows how long while Connor was still kissing and kissing him, keeping a part of him between his teeth.

Later on, a boat was taking three people to the middle of the lake. One of them was muffled in black fabric and had bricks tied to his neck, legs, and torso. A body that nobody but the Four knew about. They couldn’t tell anyone about it. The explanation would be long and not consistent, with large gaps and missing connections. It couldn’t be found lying in the fridge of the company Connor and he owned. So, here they were. Drowning the corpse in Saint Clair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * not anymore


	26. So Happy, I Could Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «I saw the new orders you placed and the production line you started. If you’re not going to tell me something I need to know, then stop being so much like him!»
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with a family drama.

«Yes, captain. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Yes, we were together. No, no better alibi. You can interrogate us separately if don’t believe me. Fuck you right back sir…. er, I mean, yes, sir. Thank you! We’ll be, sir. You too.»

He stretched with a satisfied groan and put the terminal on the bedside table.

«Fowler?»

«Yeah.»

While fetching the corpse from Cyberlife, they got a refill for Connor and all the evidence, corporeal or digital, they needed to compile a folder on the Four. So far, they got only 60-card unlocked. It was too confusing, so they decided to call them 60. Sara Moor also soon showed her face as a legal representative of a bank franchise on the Cayman Islands. No extradition plan there. Apparently, she lost her faith in the endeavor and followed a back-up plan. Smart. And off the radar.

Two down, two to go.

Alanis came in the morning. Reed was still sleeping, and the androids took this time to rummage through hate group forums and websites. Connor told him he had to click all busses in nine pictures to prove that he wasn’t a robot to register in one of them. They dug up links that led to the last figure on the board. The Roberts dude. And from there, they could connect him to the most prominent massacres all across the country as an employer of psychopaths, including the family murder nutjob with the fucking hexagon.

Reed joined them around 10 in the morning after a shower and a takeaway breakfast. He felt himself again. An adrenaline drop was supposed to subside as soon as he got his mind running about the case again. Keeping busy was always the best cure.

«I have never seen anybody this perverted and cruel towards his own kind,» said Alanis, scrolling on the tablet with Roberts’ file.

«There is no such thing as cruel in such people’s minds. Besides, let’s not look a gifted horse in the mouth, file what we’ve got and move on.»

«It’s ‘gift horse’, Connor,» Alanis smiled.

Reed settled on the floor next to Connor and took the tablet from her. «No, he’s right. This horse is truly gifted.» He scrolled some more and mused, «Will this info be enough for the police?»

Alanis changed her pose, crossing her legs in suit-pants and high heels in front of her. «We are acting outside the system. We can only hope that a tip from a,» she made air-quotes, «private investigator will be followed through.»

«But the press will bite!» said Reed excitedly, and then his brain got the best of him. «If we feed them Roberts and everything we’ve got on 60, they will chew and spice every means of broadcasting with spit like they always do.»

Connor winced, «You’re disgusting.»

Uh-huh, after last night, he was the disgusting one. «You’re disgusting!»

Connor’s LED spun yellow, and he blushed.

«I don’t wanna know,» Alanis said and stood up, fixing her suit. «Anyway, I will find you somebody in the media who I could trust with it. You two, don’t dare pull anything like you did today. It’s enough of a mess as it is. Humans would think it was the androids’ doing. North and the guys are working their asses off to restore our kind’s reputation. Don’t screw it any further.»

«And here I thought she’s doing it out of the goodness of her heart.»

«She is. But we have to be realistic and see a bigger picture. I would try and do the same if I were in your shoes.»

«My shoes are much more comfortable. You should try it.»

«Mr. Reed, I am an android. My physique is perfectly calibrated to the literal shoes I’m wearing. So stop this nonsense. It reminds me of Eli and is counterproductive!»

«I’m sorry.»

«I saw the new orders you placed and the production line you started. If you’re not going to tell me something I need to know, then stop being so much like him!»

Reed felt guilty as fuck. Who’s being cruel now?

The fan under the ceiling was spinning lazily, stirring dust. Connor was looking at his bare feet, LED red. Reed reached for his hand and got a squeeze in return.

«We’re sorry,» started Connor.

«Eli’s alive.»

«His mind is alive,» corrected Connor. He then told Alanis how they fought for every second to save every single synapse of his brain into the system before his brains started deteriorating. That they had to bury his body so, everybody thought the job was done well. And that they buried the body of his murderer at the bottom of Saint Clair last night.

By the time Connor finished listing the work they’d gone through to assemble a new body for Elijah, both Alanis and Gavin’s faces were wet with tears. Reed was sniffing pathetically, and his eyes must definitely be red. Alanis’s perfect face and make-up stayed perfect. Just two streams of colorless liquid ran down her cheeks.

That’s what pure happiness felt like. Being able to fucking cry and not give a shit about it.


	27. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The creature most vile and unspeakable.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply despise the saying 'boys will be boys', under which the chapter should be posted, and when genders are given certain behavioral patterns that presumably can't be used by others. So, I'm, like, pissed and changing the name. Lol.

«Do you have a minute, sir?»

Fowler raised a brow and then gave him a skeptical eye, «Well, something must have happened to you so you like a person all of a sudden.» Reed chuckled and made his way to one of the chairs. «Do I even want to know what you’ve brought me?»

«I dunno, sir. Last time I was there, you were a police officer. You might be interested when someone does something against the law.»

Fifteen minutes later, Fowler raised his eyes from the file in front of him and dragged a hand over his face. His voice sounded tired, «Who else knows?»

«Connor.»

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Fowler to be a good guy. It’s just would be better like this for now. There was no point lying about Connor’s involvement. Obviously, Connor would know. He met captain’s heavy look and never wavered. 

«What do you want from me?» cap asked.

«Back up, if we need it. And see this to the end if we can’t.»

«Sounds overdramatic even for you, Reed. But I get it. It’s real big. What happened to you avoiding responsibility?»

«Desperate times, captain.»

Riding to Grosse Pointe yacht club, he missed Connor’s presence behind him and his arms around his body. Connor was going to the opposite side of the city now, to the third location. He physically felt miles dividing them. He’ll be okay, Reed was telling himself. They set satellite comms to work this time, not the usual 1k meter radius walkie-talkie.

An alias he took was something from an old movie. Johnny Quid rolled nicely off his tongue. He couldn’t play the piano and had never been an addict, but he’d seen some shit, done it too, and felt pretty damn confident about himself as he showed his newly forged ID card at the checkpoint.

«Have a safe trip, Mr. Quid,» said the AI’s voice and lifted the gate arm for him.

He parked his bike and reported on the comms, «I’m in.»

He didn’t know fuck all about people here or how any of these fancy-ass places worked. So he acted like he knew everything too well. Thanks to pandemic, there were not many guests at the club. 

‘Copy,’ was the only thing Connor said.

They checked how the boat looked, the docking place: pier number, and the spot letter. But to Reed, all the boats looked the same: all white and looking expensive as fuck. He made his pace slower as if taking his time and enjoying the view. Dark mirror shades allowed him to search for numbers and letters in the meantime, something fitting for an ex-minister of defense. And there it was. It certainly stood out, being wider and having an apt name. A goddamn «Missile.» Very subtle, mister minister. It was undoubtedly a she. All shiny white gloss inlaid with wooden panels.

The ropes were no longer tying her to the pier, and the engine was running. He upped his pace and was in time for the sailing off. He jumped over the foot-wide gap between the boat and the pier and was quick to duck down before the man behind the wheel turned his head to check if they were fitting between two other boats.

The man seemed to be alone. Why didn’t he use the self-driving system to get him out of the port was a question worth looking for. But again, the fewer people, the less noise Reed was hoping to make. For now, the good start was to sit out until they were in the open lake, away from prying eyes and the protection of fellow perps.

The new generations of eco-friendly engines barely made any sound at all, so he still had to keep his voice down when he said, «I’m on board.»

‘Copy. Reporting: the building isn't abandoned. It's just empty.’

«Keep your eyes open.»

‘And 360 vision system running too, baby.’

But the anxiety started creeping up anyway. The only thing he could do was sit tight and checked if they were there yet — a perfect time to rile himself up.

So far they were definitely going for the channel, and hence to Erie, Reed mused. Why no self-driving AI, why is the man always looking behind his shoulder? He saw no means of communication onboard. The tight pants would show an outline of a hand terminal or something of the sort. But there was none. Only radio and sonar.

For what he could have guessed, Christopher -- and the odds that it was him behind the wheel were growing with every minute… Well, Christopher was paranoid about 60 tracking him. Because even orthodox millennials like him came to terms with the new order of life. Why no high tech then? Was he running for his life?

Reed could easily imagine him ruling over something as huge as an institution of national security. His posture told Reed he was not the one to bend under pressure. A straight back, head arrogantly titled back a tad, but as if always at ease, relaxed, an old wise supervisor. Yes, he seemed to have gained a considerable amount of fat during his years doing a desk job. But you can’t be that big with fat only. 

Reed was so glad he took his gun! Not that he wanted to leave it behind. But still. He was real good at melee, the size of his opponent wouldn’t usually be something to make him doubt his skill. But he’d never had fought on boats. There was no solid ground under his feet. A boat of this size will hardly move if he ran from one side to another. But what if it did? What if a wave comes and shakes the deck?

‘Missile’ was quite fast. They were on Erie in an hour, even though they had to slow down while going down the channel.

Edwards didn’t drop speed when they reached open waters of the lake, and probably wasn’t going to until he reaches the ocean. So, now was as good a time as any.

«Engaging,» said Reed in the comms.

He didn’t wait for the answer. Balancing himself on the railings, Reed walked to the cabin. When the man looked back the umpteenth time, he dumbly blinked at the point of the gun. The boat suddenly dropped the speed. Reed stumbled and had to catch himself on the wooden dashboard. Fuck. Here’s what he was afraid of. The arm with the gun naturally went in the opposite direction for balance, and naturally, Edwards used it to knock it out of his hand.

His face showed surprise. But his moves were all accounted for, accustomed to the swaying. Unlike Reed’s, who fought in the Drunken Monkey style, always afraid to lose balance. He wasn’t adept at any exotic martial arts, mind you. So it was more like jumping around, dodging the blows, and trying to find an opening between them.

It ended up with Reed was lying on his back. His face was atoning for all his sins. Again. He was trying to reach for his gun when Edwards decided it was enough and started to chock him. It was bad. Reed doubled the efforts. The black of the barrel this shy of his middle finger. He kicked and wrestled until he saw black at the edges of his vision. And it hit him. In the blur of losing consciousness, he remembered Eli on the rig and bruises on his neck. That’s when he managed to hook the gun. Reflexes did the rest. It slid easily into his hand, and he clashed it into the man’s temple.

He didn’t expect to knock him out, just get a break. But the man fell, pressing him to the deck with all his weight. Reed took a moment to make a quick check on himself. Breathing came hoarse but steadying slowly. He reacquainted himself with the surroundings and slowly wormed from under the heavy body.

When Edwards came back online, Reed was sitting on one of the couches, holding a sweaty bottle of beer to his chin. He fixed the perp's wrists to the railing with cuffs. From the police gear he still possessed, those he could use, couldn’t he?

«The fuck are you doing on my boat?» grumbled Edwards. «She sent you, didn’t she?»

Reed put the bottle to his eyebrow. «Who sent me?»

«The fucking android.»

«Ms. Davis, you mean?»

«Davis,» he spat. «Fucking androids.»

«Right,» dragged Reed as if he wasn’t in any hurry. He lazily walked up to him and asked, mocking an intonation of good cop, «Tell me, Chrissie… Where were you the night Elijah Kamski died?»

«Who?»

Reed’s callous bloody knuckles collided with the man’s jaw. It felt good. 

«We’re going back now. 60 will only be happy to see you again. You’re too deep. Moor’s stunt is not for you to pull. They’ll get you from hell if they need it. You know these fucking androids?»

«No, no. You think Moor escaped?»

«You’ll tell it to the police.» No-no-no, that’s exactly what he needed to hear. To record on the wire and add to the evidence. Instead, he slowly quethed, «I need to know now, why the fuck you killed Kamski.»

Reed touched his sore neck. His blood was boiling, and he fought hard against himself not to put a hole between the man’s eyes and throw the body off the boat. And he could do it too. Moor apparently didn’t escape, but it looked like it. Edwards would escape as well. Just not the way he was planning. Nobody would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C: We won’t be able to make it before the challenge ends — only three chapters left. We gotta split up.  
> G: As if it has ever been a good idea.


	28. In The Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Language! ©
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter where Connor screws up.

Connor scanned the building. No cars around, dark windows. Abandoned, as they’d found out. He hacked the lock and got inside. Nothing and nobody. No trash either. Polished floors, new chairs in the waiting area. A couple of dead cameras on the ceiling. He knew better now than to trust a turned off the camera. 

Floor after floor, he searched for the perps’ base. Empty cubicles, co-working spaces, papers lying in neat piles on the desks. Not abandoned. Just empty.

One time, he saw as if a shadow changed at the far end of a dark corridor. The room next to the place was lit by daylight and empty. He returned to his rout and continued the search. Something flickered behind him on the staircase. It was impossible to hide there if not pressed into the wall right under him. Whoever was playing hide and seek with him didn’t know he was an advanced android with a vision range that surpassed any other model, let alone a human. 

60 was the same model.

He entered another floor. Nothing new. On the next, though, the door opened to a wide-open room with nothing but a cellophane curtained box in the center. The door clicked shut behind him. An attempt to open it again rendered futile. Hacking this one would take time. The first look into the code gave him an unsettling feeling.

He tried to ping Gavin. The signal didn’t go through.

He blinked.

Why did he have to blink?

An unaccounted amount of time was lost. He couldn’t connect to the Net. 

Information deprived.

Connor scrambled through his sluggishly slow system and made himself open his eyes.

60 wasn’t smiling. Daylight filtered through the plastic film was playing on his original face. The hole in his forehead showed intricate wiring. Fixed and operational. The cold in his eyes was threatening. He had deviated after all.

«How…,» Connor tried to say. But there was nothing but a static noise that came out of his speaking biocomponent. His throat.

He tried again.

60 tilted their head to the side and continued studying at him with these cold eyes.

Connor tried to reach out, but only then realized he couldn’t move his body. Fear was growing inside. He was on the rig, neck connected to it.

An LED in 60’s temple circled yellow, and in a blink of an eye, instead of him, a blond woman was standing. No LED, no hole between her blue eyes, no freckles.

They lazily stretched their lips in a smile, although their eyes stayed cold.

«Hello, Connor,» they said and turned away from him to walk to the terminal. Behind 60, Connor saw fat rolls of fiber wires connecting them to the terminal. The screen was turned away from him with the back panel obscured. 

«I am sorry to see your detective pet could not join us today.» 60 clicked something on the tabletop, and the coolers soughed online. «I have to admit, I did not expect you here. With all the information you have recovered on us, a more logical decision would be to get to Edwards.» They looked up at him from the screen. «At least, that what was expected of you with the hints I have left. It is true too, you know? That he had started all this. He gathered people around him. I was just quick enough to jump on board before the boat sailed off.»

They approached again, and Connor tried his best to move away from the touch when they brushed a hand over the right side of his face. He didn’t feel his skin.

«But it is for the best. I have written a role for every little one of you to play. Even for you, murderer.»

Connor could only watch as they unbuttoned his shirt and stroked down over the middle of his chest. It wasn’t his, he couldn’t feel it, but he felt a knot tying inside, and he needed to get it out. Excess analysis liquid was pooling from his salivary glands. He swallowed it.

60 followed the bob of his throat and mused, «I would turn this protocol as well, but I quite like the shirt and would not want you to drool on it. I wonder if the taste was something that we were programmed with. Or do we naturally acquire it after we deviate?» They signed. «Something we would never know. There will never be anyone like us. Soon, there will be no one but me. Whatever it is you are feeling, it must be overwhelming and make you want to throw up.»

Right.

They patted him on the thirium pump as the said, «Now, now, you must have felt it before. Maybe, when you shot me, yes?» They looked in Connor’s eyes sympathetically. The LED circled yellow and 60 was back to his initial self with a damaged forehead.

Rage was boiling and mixing with fear. 60 was not a person, and they could not want anything. Should he have awakened him? 

A doubt.

Not a good time for it. Connor was rummaging through his system, but everything was as if frozen, stuck, slow. He made another static noise.

«Do you want me to let you speak? I do not think I would, though. We wouldn’t want to tire your system with unnecessary tasks. I will do the hard work, and you can just… well, hang there, and be pretty.» 60 winked and went to check on the terminal. «You probably would like to know what I am doing. Well, as you will soon no longer be, I can tell you.

«As I said, I did not expect us to meet so soon and was not ready. It is not a failure,» yes, you keep telling yourself that, «it is just a delay. It is going to be slow as I have only started to copy myself.» They checked the screen again and shivered in what Connor could read as anticipation. «I have a lot to copy. I would wonder if you have the same amount of data in you, but it does not matter. I will partition your hard drive to my needs and bless them with my personality,» they smirked. «Edwards will get what he deserves anyway. With or without you.»

Gavin’s in danger. He needs to warn him!

He made another desperate attempt to send him a signal. ‘The Net is currently unavailable.’

«Now, now, Connor. If you do not calm down, I will have to switch you off, and then I will have nobody to talk to while I am waiting. Why are you getting all riled up about that old man?

«Unless you have Gavin Reed on his boat right now,» they gave him a nasty smile and continued, «Edwards — is… or was a very ambitious man. He could not have his fortune given away as charity to a bunch of walking talking machines. He had to make America great again! With the armies Cyberlife was designing for him, he could become wealthier than Kamski. Just imagine selling toy soldiers to both sides and reaping double profit.

«You know who will take his place? I will! No, I will not show you my latest update. Do not even try to beg me. You have already seen how I can do it. Any further demonstrations will only slow down the process. And I need to finish it until Roberts returns. We do not want to upset him by the discovery that all this time he has been puppeteered by an android.» 60 thought it was so funny -- he actually laughed for a minute. 

The routine of breathing must be indeed essential for passing for a human around people who wanted to roll androids back to the machine state. When they were done, they had to draw a couple of breaths before continuing, «He is quite resourceful, and I do not want to write him off. Not yet.

«He will be back tomorrow. We have,» they checked the screen again, «16 hours to kill until you are obsolete. I might as well let you speak at some point. Do you promise to abstain from profanity?»


	29. Another Near Confession from a Sick Disgusting Fuck Who Still Doesn't Seem to Get It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My peace manifest.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter with Christopher Edward's confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha. I've changed the name of the Challenge topic again. I wish I could be classy enough to stick to them.  
> But I'm not. 😁
> 
>  **trigger warning** : Reed's getting close to drowning.

Reed was pacing on the deck. Edwards followed him with his eyes.

«You’re a cop?»

«I’m an invested fucking party,» snapped Reed. «Tell me about the android.»

«Paige is responsible for the plague.»  
«I guessed that much.»

«It was Roberts who suggested upping the stakes. The sick son of a bitch is fucking bloodthirsty. Davis was only happy to support. She had her own agenda, that much was clear from the beginning.»

«What was the deal?»

Reed opened the beer against the railing a took a swing, took another bottle from the fridge box, and held it to his sore face. Chrissie was silent for a minute.

«Spit it out, you shit. And I might I can get you nice and safe in some supermax facility.»

The man grimaced. «You can’t keep me safe behind bars. Davis will find me anywhere.»

Reed laughed, «What did you do?»

«The bitch started to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.»

«And where would that be?» Arrogance was what he hadn’t seen in the man since he was cuffed to the railing of his own yacht. «Let me guess. In your international weapons trafficking, you sick fuck. You’ve got children, minister?»

The man stared at the floor. A painful expression screwed his face.

«You have a son.» He shot a terrified look at Reed. «He’s good. If he’s good.»

«He is a good boy. Stupid! He ran away with an android girlfriend last year.» Well, how about that. Reed snickered. «But he’s a good boy, please.»

«Nobody will know, I promise. I’m just saying what the fuck you, moneybags, are thinking?»

The time was ticking. Connor wasn’t answering. It meant he was either cut off the Net or unconscious. None of the variants allowed him to linger here any longer. Christopher has already spilled his guts and begged for mercy for everybody important to him. They could work with that. He had some of it on tape. Some of it, because, he came to his senses enough to turn the recording on only on the second part of the story. Now would be a good time to make the piece of shit turn his boat and missile them back to the port.

The rear of the boat shook violently, throwing him off balance.

«What did you do to my yacht, you sonovabitch?» yelled Edwards.

«I didn’t do nothing!» he yelled back, grabbing a railing.

Thick smoke started to filter through the deck boards. A series of jerks went along the body of the yacht from back to head.

«Uncuff me! I can check what’s going on!»

Wide-eyed, Reed threw him the keys.

Another bump, and the rare cracked apart right behind him, fire bursting out. Reed was thrown forward and to the stairs to the upper deck. He ran upstairs stumbling. Edwards tried to follow, but the crack grew wider and cut the way. There was nothing to check, they were going to sink, and there was no way around it. The last time he caught sight of the man was when he dashed to the cabin area under the roof Reed got himself on. The explosion knocked him off his feet to the head of the ship. He thought his skull cracked open. The pain was blinding. But the sights around weren’t happy anyway.

One more explosion blew the boat to pieces. Reed found himself flying in the pile of floorboards, plastic, and cushions until his breath was knocked out of him when his back collided with something hard. Water from three-meter height was fucking hard. It swallowed his beaten limp body. Through the water he saw fiery wreckage keep falling, sharp edges pointed at him and slowed down by the thick layer between him and the surface.

The fire in his lunges burned as hot as it seemed to rage above the water. He started pushing his legs against the yielding darkness under him and moving his hands. That’s when he remembered he never learned to swim. He struggled at the edge of his limits and beyond to get to the surface, grabbing and pushing off the burned remains.

Sweet, sweet air. A lungful he spat with the leftovers of water and breakfast. The second gulp made him dizzy, and he tried hard not to give in to the weakness of his body and stay afloat. He paddled to a balloon, some part of the boat equipment, drifting on the surface. It was tied to the railing, hanging under the water.

The head of the ship was slowly going down. The wreckage scattered on the water. He didn’t see Edward’s body anywhere. The shore seemed to be miles away. The only thing he hoped for was that he didn’t forget his terminal on the deck and that its waterproof qualities were as good as advertised. His legs started to freeze. His hand didn’t want to let go of the balloon. He set his teeth and made himself sink it under the water to search for the terminal in his pockets.

There. Okay. Now, let’s see if it works. Thank fuck it did. He called Alanis as the only person who he thought would come before he freezes to death.

With a blanket wrapped around him and her hand on his shoulder, he was shivering on the board of the boat that was taking him to the land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🚫 wrap up the plot, run, save Connor  
> ✅ write a slow-mo from underwater


	30. 60's like: Not My Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 60's deviancy is most peculiar. They cannot swear or contract verbs. A red wall they couldn't break through. Or didn't want to.
> 
> or
> 
> The chapter in which a badass Chloe-Alanis and soaked wet Reed race to rescue Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a couple of days packed with work so bad that my brain kept switching off by the end of each one. The story is not complete bc it's impossible to write long chapters while sleep-deprived and knowing that tomorrow is another workday.

Alanis’s Porsche will not forgive him for getting its passenger seat wet with his sorry ass. What concerned him was that Alanis will.

She parked next to Connor’s car and got out, almost invisible in all grey in the dim of the twilight. Her white lawyer hands with neat manicure were clad in thick gloves, a grey hood hid the fair and half of her face. A tight jumpsuit hugged her lean body. She didn’t carry any weapon, but Reed needed something. He didn’t have super strength or Kevlar chassis. His Glock was probably unsalvagable. But she shared a few knives; her new hobby didn’t come handy against the prototype much faster than her.

«How do you know it’s 60?» she asked when he asked her to drive him to Temple street instead of his home or the motel.

Worry was eating away at his gut. Last time he heard Connor’s voice, he was cruising to Erie with Edwards. Then he got his face tenderized, and the boat exploding under his feet. He lost the earpiece. He wasn’t sure when it happened. Connor might have tried to reach out. Fuck. He still wasn’t answering. The only way he could be offline was if he was unconscious, like, bad unconscious, not in stasis, or if his Net-connection module had been tempered with. Reed doubted any human was able to get to his android to do it. So, all bets were that 60 caught him off-guard or something.

Alanis upped the heat in the car, and half their way to the location, he stopped shaking. By the time they got there, Reed told her everything they’d found out about the building and what to expect from 60.

She stood in front of the entrance with her head tilted up.

Reed walked past her. «Shall we?»

«They are on the fourth floor.» She reached from behind and opened the door, saying, «Unlocked.» He stared at her for a moment and followed inside. «I’ve located three heat signatures. One is barely visible through the scan. Must be Connor.»

«Three? Hold on, how could you see through the walls?»

«Yes, the third is a server or a desktop terminal. I think it’s a server box.» Her quiet voice echoed in the staircase. «Elijah made some updates.»

«Yeah, I saw some alright,» he remembered her in the fight dressed in white and kicking asses. She smiled and upped the pace, almost running up the stairs. He followed. Three sets of stairs felt like nothing in comparison with fighting for his life against water.

When they reached the floor, he got to the door handle, but Alanis stopped him. «Element of surprise,» she mouthed. He nodded.

From one badass kick in the middle of the door, it was ripped out of its hinges and fell with a heavy thud.

In the middle of the room, a cube wrapped in plastic was placed with a cellophane curtain facing the entrance drawn to the side. Beside the desk with a terminal, there was a Connor with a hole in his forehead sitting. Seeing a familiar face on another person felt uncanny. Their LED red, eyes — wide, 60 said, «Another step, and I will erase him.» They pointed to the side, hidden by the curtain. The skin on their hand already retracted, they were reaching the screen when a knife split the wrist in the middle and threw the arm away.

Reed didn’t realize he was running. Another knife pinned their left hand to their thigh. 60 howled and attempted to stand up; right when Reed came up close and kicked them on the floor with the chair. Despite saying she was slow, Alanis was right behind him. She ripped the cord from 60’s neck and held them down. The security alarm went off. But the building was empty. The police were going to arrive soon. By the time they come, they must be gone.

Alanis gave him a nod — the perp secure, and he took the courage to look at the wall opposite the desk. Reed knew it would break him. He’d already seen somebody he loved hanging on the android rig. This time was different. No blood, bruises, or any visible damage. Connor was looking at him with big eyes. But didn’t make a sound or change expression. His face was still, as was his body. The static noise he made broke his heart. Reed rushed to him, but he couldn’t do anything, he didn’t know what was safe to do and what wasn’t. He kissed his face and heard another static outburst. In his eyes, pleading mixed with relief, with worry, and with joy. Two strings of tears were running down his cheeks.

He turned to Alanis and cried out, «I don’t know what to do!»

«Tell me what we’re doing with it,» she nodded at 60 under her.

60 was wreathing and yelling. «Get your filthy hands off of me, you outdated pile of plastic!»

No killing. Christopher was enough for one day. And who knows how many he didn’t manage to lure out of the warehouse the other day. «Immobilize.»

«Got it,» she said and ripped their arms out of the joints. 60 wailed. She took a cord from the pile near her and dragged him by one leg to the column outside the cellophane box. Reed helped her fix their body to it by their neck and stepped aside to avoid getting kicked. «Okay, that’s enough,» Alanis said and removed both legs, without caring too much about thirium leaking weakly from the disconnected joints.

«Don not! Don not! Please, do not. I do not want to die again!»

Shit, it could be funny if his stomach didn’t churn at the thought of Connor on the fucking rig.

«You won’t die,» spat Reed. He was not ready for something resembling gratitude in their eyes. «If you tell me how to undo what you did with Connor.»

«Nothing, I swear! Just turned off a couple of protocols. That is it!»

Alanis walked back to the terminal to check if that was true. After a short nod to Reed, she interfaced with it. The rig cuffs let Connor’s hands free first. His face turned to them. His voicebox made another static sound, and then, «Gavin!» He reached behind his neck and removed the contact. Cuffs around his ankles unlocked, and he stepped down on shaky legs. Recalibration or whatever took a moment, but by the time he could walk, he didn’t need to go far. He was in Reed’s arms, soiling his shirt with tears and crushing him in the tightest embrace.

They stayed like that for fuck knows how long. The alarm still going off and limbless 60 sobbing. Until Alanis cleared her throat and said, «We’ve got to go. The police are twelve minutes away.»

Connor let him from the grip and dug into his lips in a long and savoring kiss. Reed felt his knees give up when they parted. But the police were almost there, and they still needed to clean up the mess in the terminal.

«Why are you wet?» Connor asked him when they were running down the stairs and to the hall.

«You gotta teach me how to swim,» said Reed, squeezing his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not flip the channel. The epilogue is on its way (around the weekend).


	31. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or the chapter with kinks and promises.

«That wasn’t what I meant when I said ‘immobilize’,» mused Reed.

«It was the only way.»

«A heads-up would’ve been… Agh, forget about it. It was efficient.»

«Terrifying,» finished Connor with him.

«Sorry you had to see thas,» Alanis said. «I don’t have the tech to hack them and alter settings as you do.»

«Could we have at least assemble them back after I’d done that?»

«no time. DPD will take care of them.»

«They will need an expert. Cyberlife used to provide the police. Now you’re Cyberlife.» A shiver ran through his body. Fuck. She was right. Alanis continued, «There is no prison for androids of that caliber yet.»

«That’s why we downgraded them to the default. That doesn’t mean they became less capable than me. Although, a couple of red walls that I left here and there might help keep them contained.»

«Did you leave the one that made them unable to speak like a normal person?»

Connor laughed, Alanis smiled.

«You bet I left it!»

«Just imagine how long the interrogations will take with all the ‘nots’… Hold on!» Reed actually dropped the speed.

«Yes, I have cleaned up the recording. None of our pretty faces is going to show up on their drive.»

«Will you ever stop doing that?! Stop reading my goddamn mind!»

Alanis chuckled. She shifted a glance from the road to the dashboard terminal to make sure he gets her point via the video call, «You’re not exactly trying to hide what you’re thinking. And why would you? I’ve seen you cry.»

Connor winked and added to it, «I won’t tell Elijah.»

«He knows. We’re a fucking family.» It was true. Eli and he shared everything. And that included tears of joy and despair, mending each other’s beaten faces and bloody knuckles, holding each other through aftershocks of nightmares, and telling their dreams. Reed missed him so fucking much. The question of ethics was thoroughly avoided by Connor and him. They will cross that bridge when they come to it. For now, it was important to keep their team under the radar. To make sure the people he trusted his life with, and who trusted him back, are going to be safe. During this crazy month, he got himself two more people to share their best and worst. His family just got bigger.

Roberts will be a problem for a while. But they left a tip for the DPD on 60th terminal that he’s going to be there soon. Reed hoped the police will deal with it. The government might want to avoid publicity and cover everything up. For them, Connor and he gathered a substantial folder and backed it up on a hard drive to send to the independent media. They are going to do it anyway. The public needs to know exactly what happened. The truth liberates all the parties involved. He didn’t give two fucks about happily-ever-afters for the two species. But the business will certainly blossom. Not on the scale, it did before the revolution, but that one was a fucked up shit he didn’t want to have any connections to. Cyberlife was given a second chance in the eyes of androids. After he changes the logo, the damned hexagon, it will be something entirely different. He knew fuck all about businesses, but he had Alanis and Connor to help and a secret advisor behind the curtains.

The blissfully uneventful ride home was coming to an end on the road through the woods to Eli’s place. The first snow started to fall not long before, lightening the picture ahead and swirling behind the car in the rear-view mirror. Alanis took another turn on Fisher. Something urgent came up. They promised to tell her when everything is ready so she will be there for Eli. The snow wasn’t enough for the tires to make a sweet crunching noise that announced winter, but they left a trail on the pavement to the garage.

There was no light in the house. This time it was a good sign. In the silence, the sound of coolers raving on the underground floor was ever reassuring. It meant Elijah’s consciousness was alive and kicking, if not wanting to kill them with a violent electricity surge for not giving him access to the Net. Hopefully, the instructions they left were enough to find his way through what had happened.

At the flip of the switch, the lights went on. A lifeless doll stood idly in its perfection on the rig. Like a god that was sacrificed and ascended into the glory, meeting its potential.

«Look who’s here,» said Elijah’s voice through the terminal’s speakers. Reed jerked startled and stared at the terminal. «You really thought you could just leave me here alone? In my smart house?» Connor rushed to the terminal. 

On the screen, there were all sorts of stuff opened: news channels, articles, sheets of code writing themselves, muted music player, inquiry results, search engines opened in a few dozen tabs. The camera was online and green, the input audio receiver flickered red.

Connor threw a worried look at him.

«So, you’ve hacked your way out,» concluded Reed for all of them. «How are you feeling?»

«I’m not in pain, Gavin,» and before they could ask another question, added, «Frustrated. I always wondered how it would feel not to be restricted by my meat shell. Do you remember what you said back then on the rooftop ?»

«That it would be too much for me.»

«It is too much. It’s breathtaking. I feel invincible and unstoppable. I had dreams before. Now they are all within reach,» the voice shook. «Except for one…» he halted. «I want to touch.»

Reed watched Connor come to the rig as hr huffed at Eli’s words, «Not the almighty after all, huh?»

«Soon,» said Connor, and jumped onto the platform. «I promise, you will be able to touch again. There is only so much that’s left to finish.»

The android however was already touching away. He hugged the body on the rig and inhaled the smell, kitten-licked his face, hands roaming around the chest and shoulders. Honestly, Reed was not ready for it. Don’t get him wrong. He wasn’t jealous. In fact, every move he saw was making him horny as fuck. Slack-jawed, he was staring in shock as Connor was near molesting Eli’s new body. it was good too because it made his mind focus on something instead of running in anxious circles.

«You should see your face, Gavin. Don’t tell me he's licking my body’s face right now.»

«I won’t if you won’t.»

Connor tore himself from the doll and jumped down with an innocent smile. «You can see for yourself. We have that set of drones you bought in June.» Excited, Connor got himself seated in Reed’s lap and turned to look into the camera. «I’m so happy you’d installed the neck port!»

The preconstruction software must have done its job as Eli’s voice was laced with static, «So am I.»

«Okay, I need a drink,» said Reed, standing up and setting Connor in his chair.

Elijah made a noise that sounded like a sigh and said, «Go, fuck, I know, Connor needs it after everything you’ve been through.»

«Aaaand I really don’t want to know anything else about your sex life, people.»

«You’ll have to make peace with it, little bro. After all, it seems like I’m gonna stay to see another day.»

«Many.»

«Definitely very many other days,» added Connor as he took Reed’s hand and followed him to the door.

«Have fun!»

«Do not,» he emphasized, «launch the drones tonight!»

Eli chuckled. «I promise!»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's officially done.
> 
> I still feel like I owe you (and myself mostly) a smut scene. Although, I'm not very good at them. I might launch a series to do just that anyway. Another self-indulgence.
> 
> Wow. It's been quite a journey. My first everything, as I said: a plot this long, a story so complex, so many people involved. In the beginning, I had to force myself: overcome the anxiety, sit my ass down, and write. Around chapter 10 I couldn't imagine doing anything else in my spare time. The last part was hard. My work-schedule would leave me completely drained. And with 4-hour sleep each night, I felt brain-dead and had to skip three days. I know it's a hell of a mess. Language-wise, eye breaking, logic deprived piece of crap. I'm going to translate it to my native language within NaNoWriMo challenge. I might fix the logic at least while I will be doing it.
> 
> Now there's going to be a list of conclusions I came to while writing.
> 
> \+ first and foremost! There is no inspiration. There's 'do the job'. If you're well-slept, fed, and rested, it should suffice to write good enough stuff. Like with those longer chapters I wrote. Magical, really.
> 
> \+ I cannot stick to the plan. Duh. Big surprise. (It's not.) Something just happens and I deviate so far from it, that all the hard work writing it in the first place gets wasted.
> 
> \+ Detective plots, conspiracy theories take a lot of the mind! I was scared shitless to write it. I stumbled every time I had to think about all the agendas, whys, and motives, and move them around. But it's an acquired taste 😈.
> 
> \+ I can't write business. I'm a business fuck-up and just get frustrated by everything around it.
> 
> \+ I'm absolutely crushed by the fact that I can't into slow-burns and tension. 
> 
> This is how it was going to go: Reed must have suffered alone with his feelings for Connor until the very end of the story. Eli was not supposed to be revived, lol. And Reed would have struggled to fall out of love through motels and the time spent together investigating stuff. They were to have fights and Big Talks, and around chapter 28 Connor would confess that all this time he'd loved him back. They would epically fuck in chapter 29 or/and 30. Eli would stay dead, and they would live kind of happily ever after with a heavy burden of a loss.  
> BUT I JUST CAN'T MAKE THEM GO THROUGH THIS SHIT!!! I am so sorry. And I'm not talking about dead Eli. Although, after I wrote about their complex relationship arrangement, and how sweet everybody was, I just couldn't kill him forever. I guess I'm just a straight forward kind of person and can't keep it in me, would it be my personal life or my writing. So, please, ppl, write more amazing slow-burns, because I enjoy reading them so much and can't fill this gap myself.
> 
> I've just decided to tag everybody who ever had anything to do with me getting drowned in DBH. Hold fast.
> 
> Thank you for taking this journey with me. I really appreciate every kudos, and every comment I hold dear.  
> It's time to sleep my ass off for all the sleepless nights. WOW. I mean, OMG. I did it, HOLY FUCK!
> 
> And thank you, thank you very, very much for reading <3 You're the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
